


With Time

by aliceecrivain



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Ghost Sex, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Minor Injuries, Reconciliation, Supernatural Elements, as in sex with a ghost, it's better to just accept it now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 51,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7943392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliceecrivain/pseuds/aliceecrivain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heiwajima Shizuo did not believe in ghosts. At least, he didn't until one began haunting him. Incredulous at first, but shaken and resigned after a week of its antics, Shizuo decides to confront the specter for better or worse, for the sake of his own sanity. What he finds is far more familiar than he ever could have expected.</p><p>Incidentally, Orihara Izaya didn’t believe in ghosts either. That is, until he became one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much of my inspiration for the ghosts in this story, what they look like, how they can interact with humans, came from Guillermo del Toro's work in the movie "Crimson Peak," if only insomuch as I realized that I'm only limited by my own imagination.
> 
> That being said, this story does require you to buy in to a couple of stranger elements, as pointed out in the tags. Hopefully that won't be too off-putting. I'd also like to apologize briefly for any grammatical errors you might find. I am my own beta reader and tend to miss things sometimes.

Heiwajima Shizuo did not believe in ghosts.

Really, he didn’t believe in anything supernatural: not aliens, not specters, not monsters underneath the bed. People could be monsters enough on their own, he knew. Those other things didn’t fit within his own reality and seemed pretty ridiculous anyway. He didn’t know what happened when you died, but he doubted it had anything to do with getting to float around creepy houses for the rest of eternity.

In his own defense, even his roommate Celty who was something of a closet conspiracy theorist when it came to aliens didn’t believe in ghosts and Shizuo was far more prepared to believe her insistent notions that some other kind of life existed out there somewhere before he believed that things that went bump in the night were white and covered in a sheet.

That was probably why it didn’t occur to him in the least that the shadow that had been following him around all week could be anything other than some punk looking for a fight.

Shizuo hadn’t paid much attention to it at first, the way he kept catching sight of a blur, something moving out of the corner of his eye like the wind was blowing visibly nearby. He was going to college and lived on campus so he was almost always surrounded by people, or at least could see a couple of others around. Random movement wasn’t something he focused on if he could help it. The problem was it continued when he went back to his apartment.

It didn’t make any sense that someone could be there without him knowing about it. It wasn’t like the place was very big. There was nowhere to hide. But the shadow was still there, hovering. He could almost sense the presence of someone or something else around him the way he could when he was walking down a quiet path and turned to find that another student had started to walk soundlessly behind him at some point. It made the hair on his skin stand up, made him jumpy for no good reason, but in place of the ordinary absolute silence of the apartment, he swore he could hear things occasionally rustling.

It went away more or less when Celty returned home a short while later, exhausted from a midterm. She tossed her keys onto the counter and flopped onto one of the couches, sighing heavily. Shizuo came over immediately, still glancing around, not sure how to explain away what had been happening earlier but equally unable to put any acceptable label to what it might have been.

“Hey,” Celty signed when she caught sight of him and had begun another, more mundane line of questioning when she realized how shaken he looked. “Are you okay?”

Shizuo swallowed and glanced around as quickly as he could as if he moved fast enough he would be able to pin it down. “I’m…fine. I just don’t feel too well.”

Celty’s eyebrows drew together and she gestured for him to sit down which he did, dropping down onto the couch next to her, running a hand through his hair, wishing it wasn’t shaking the way it was. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Shizuo confessed, feeling stupid. “I was seeing things and it freaked me out. It was nothing, I’m sure.”

Celty’s frown informed him that his defense was not as strong as he might like it to be, but she nodded nonetheless. “You must be tired from midterms. Or maybe, did you watch a scary movie recently?”

Shizuo thought back and knew that he hadn’t. He forced on a smile anyway, nodded. “Yeah, now that I think about it. You must be right.” 

Celty’s expression remained dubious, but she’d known him long enough to know it was better not to push. “I’m sure you’ll be alright. You can tell me if you think you’re really sick. I can bring Shinra over to check you out.”

That was distracting at the very least. He fought to keep his expression neutral at the mention of Celty’s pre-med boyfriend. Shizuo didn’t mind him that much—he was glad he made Celty happy—but he wasn’t wild about letting an unlicensed medical student take a look at him. “That’s okay. Like you said, I’m sure it’s nothing.” He changed the subject then, asking about Celty’s midterm and her day. The conversation continued and they lapsed back into normality, the night continuing on like any other.

It took him some time to get to sleep but he didn’t see any more shadows that day.

The next day, Tuesday, he couldn’t find his sunglasses even though he’d definitely left them where he always did, on his desk. He needed to get going to class, but there was something unsettling about not being able to find them after what had happened the day previous.

“Hey, Celty,” he called, stepping out into the apartment proper to find his friend making herself breakfast.

She blinked and turned to sign at him. “Shizuo? I thought you’d left already.”

“I need to go soon, but have you seen my sunglasses?”

Celty’s face scrunched up in thought. “They aren’t where you always leave them? On your desk, right?”

Shizuo shook his head. “You didn’t move them?”

Shaking her head, Celty kept tending to her eggs, looking concerned again.

Something paranoid started scratching around in his chest, but he forced it down. “I must have shoved them somewhere weird yesterday. I was rushing around some,” he said, more for his own benefit than for Celty’s. “They’ll turn up. I should get going here.”

He departed after grabbing his bag, stepping outside and almost expecting to see the shadow again, but there was nothing. He felt a flare of irritation at himself for getting caught up in something so stupid. _It’s_ nothing, he insisted to himself as he walked. _What are you, eight? You’re just seeing things._

It was getting more difficult to believe as time went on though. His glasses did turn up: they were sitting folded on his desk when they hadn’t been there before when he’d gotten up to fill his water bottle before class at the nearby drinking fountain. He’d forgotten to do it at the apartment in the midst of his confusion at that morning.

Shizuo snapped his head around, trying to riddle out who’d put them there, how they’d got to them in the first place, but there was hardly anyone around. He was early in spite of himself, sitting in an area alone. His temples ached with the effort of trying to force logic into a situation that clearly would have none of it and his heart beat quicker as a result of the instinctual alarm that washed over him like he was sinking too-fast into ice water.

He sank down into his chair, still glancing around. He could feel it again, that presence, and sure enough, the shadow was back, haunting the edge of his vision, always just out of sight. Something like dread dripped down into his chest, and he swallowed hard to fight it off even as he swore he could hear quiet, broken laughter coming from nowhere soon after.

The shadow didn’t leave him after that, but he didn’t mention it again to anyone. His new plan was to ignore it as much as physically possible, pretend it wasn’t real, because it wasn’t. This had to be some kind of trick or practical joke and he wasn’t falling for it. Whoever was doing this wasn’t going to get to him no matter what they did. Unease remained a heavy weight in his stomach, but he worked around it, made himself stop looking over his shoulder every five seconds.

On Wednesday morning when he got out of the shower there were handprints in the fog on the bathroom mirror. He wiped them away, did his best not to think about it.

On Thursday he had a late class and was walking back home alone afterward when he heard footsteps behind him. Shizuo ignored it the best he could for several long, tense minutes, but he swore they were getting closer. It was dark, the path he was on. He didn’t tend to worry much about shit like that. He knew how to defend himself fine, would probably be more worried for whoever decided to jump _him_ of all people, but tonight he almost regretted not taking a longer, more-travelled route. As much as he resisted, everything made him jump: the wind clicking the mostly-barren branches on the trees rising up on either side of the path like a wall together, the rustle of leaves around his feet, even the swish of the fabric of his coat against itself.

The footsteps were definitely getting louder, click-clacking around in his head, making him want to start running even though that was ridiculous. He wasn’t going to be scared of what was probably another kid on their way home for the night. Shizuo steeled himself and spun around, ready to tell whoever it was to calm down or go around him. He didn’t get that far however. Instead he froze, feeling his heart rate kick back up again.

There was no one there. Only him and the trees and the leaves on the walk. The footsteps had stopped as well. He flicked his eyes around desperately, hating how he felt like that asshole in a horror movie who decided to go off their own making it so the audience knew their fate was sealed several minutes before the murder occurred. He swallowed hard, refusing to be that guy.

“I don’t know who’s there,” he called out, trying to keep his voice steady. It sounded so loud in the silence of the night. “But fuck off. You don’t want to get hurt.”

With that, he spun back around and kept walking, maybe a bit faster than before. At first he didn’t hear anything and brief relief rushed through him. It came too soon.

Before he knew it the footsteps were back, closer than ever, as was the same eerie laughter from before, more a hiss than anything else. Shizuo clenched his teeth together, curled his fingers into fists, and kept walking, refusing to give in and turn around again. He felt unsteady, light-headed, and when he sprinted the last stretch to their front door, ripped it open, and slammed it shut, probably too loud, drawing Celty’s attention, he couldn’t even blame himself.

Before he’d started running he’d felt cold hands running distinctly down his back, scratching as they went.

Shizuo collapsed up against the door, breathing heavily, flicking on as many lights as he could reach. Celty appeared soon after, her hair still wet from a shower, wrapped up in a towel. “What’s wrong?” she signed frantically.

Shizuo squeezed his eyes shut, shoved his back up against the door, but he could still feel the trails the hands had made on his back like burns. He sank down onto the floor, curling up, most likely scaring Celty half to death, but unable to stop himself.

He jumped at the warm hand on his shoulder, slapping it off immediately before he realized it was only his roommate, kneeling beside him, shaken, jerking her hand back. Shame rushed through him. “I’m—I’m sorry, Celty,” he said, trying to ground himself in her presence. “I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” she demanded, eyes wide, full of concern.

Shizuo sighed, putting his face in his hands and confessing everything that had happened thus far to her. She listened, her face unreadable. When he finished, he shook his head. “I know it sounds crazy, but you know me. I wouldn’t make this shit up.”

Celty set her hand on his shoulder again, carefully, making sure he saw it first and even then he still flinched. She frowned, glancing around like she would be able to see it. “Has this happened before?” she asked.

“No.” He would have remembered.

Celty’s eyebrows were drawn tightly together as she thought. Eventually she sank down beside him, sighing as well. “I don’t know how to help you,” she signed, looking defeated. “I’m sorry. I wish I knew the right answer, but I’ll only know for sure if this keeps going on for an extended period of time.”

Shizuo caught on after a moment. Celty was a psychology major, after all. It would only be normal for her to assume that that might be what was going on here, but he still had to fight back the way he felt mildly offended. He tried to remind himself that she was only trying to help and that none of this probably made much sense. It probably did sound insane.

“It’s fine,” he heard himself say. Dread swirled around in his stomach, making him feel nauseous, but he didn’t _get_ scared. He didn’t believe in stuff like this. Against all odds, it _had_ to be someone fucking around with him for a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’ll stop soon.”

Celty looked less than convinced, but, after a bit more reassurance, she let Shizuo head off to bed for the night, still shaking a little in spite of himself. This was something he was going to have to handle on his own. He couldn’t have everyone thinking he was crazy. That was probably exactly what whoever was doing this wanted. He just didn’t know how to go about it. He couldn’t stay as strung-out as he was for much longer or he’d explode.

Shizuo lasted one more day of the shadow before he confronted it. It was more obvious than ever, hanging around blatantly in his line of sight. Shizuo swore it was looking more and more like an actual figure every day. He caught sight of hair blowing in the wind, of individual fingers, of the curve of a shoulder throughout the day. It was like it was rebelling against the way he was trying to deny its existence by becoming more defined which was annoying. Shizuo had decided focusing in on his irritation over the whole situation rather than his fear would be better. At the very least it was keeping him sane even if clinging to the results of his short temper was usually never a good idea.

He felt like an idiot, but he decided to try to talk to it again later that afternoon. He’d been sitting alone outside, trying to study. Most people had fled from the oncoming cold of the season, choosing to sit inside, but Shizuo would take the cool and the quiet over the noisy heat of the study hall any day. The thing was distracting him, moving around more than usual, almost like it was waving a hand in his face.

“Quit it,” Shizuo grumbled. “Didn’t I tell you to fuck off?”

He swore to fucking god he saw the thing shrug.

A chill rushed through him at the possibility that it could really respond to him, maybe even talk. He wasn’t so sure he wanted it to. It didn’t help that talking with it was negating any pacts he’d made with himself either to ignore it or to keep believing that this was some punk’s idea of a good time. Talking to it meant that it might be real. “What do you want?” he demanded, still looking down at his books, pretending to erase something.

No reply, but the air around him felt colder suddenly. Shizuo could sense someone—or something—else’s presence like he’d been able to before, but much stronger, as if he turned there’d be someone beside him. He swallowed hard, fought back the shudder of instinctive fear that rattled him. “You’re pissing me off, you know that?”

This time he got laughter. It was worse every time he heard it. It made his stomach turn over with how real it sounded. Shizuo clenched harder at the edge of the table in front of him, tried to school his expression blank, but he didn’t know if it worked. There was movement again, more obvious in front of him, and suddenly there was a true shadow cast over his book.

Shizuo wished he didn’t have to, but he forced himself to lift his head, look in front of him. He couldn’t help the way he jerked when he did. It was _there_ , a pitch black swatch, sitting in front of him like it had been there the whole time. The fact that it was vaguely human-shaped was far more unsettling than if it had been amorphous. The fact was Shizuo thought he could make out a head, shoulders, maybe even arms. He fought to keep his breathing steady, to not look away even as primal terror gripped him.

But it was impossible because the thing was real and it was there and it was fucking cocking its head at him like it understood was he was saying, far more solid than any shadow he’d ever seen. It was blocking the pale rays of the sun drifting down, but in a way that made it seem like it was absorbing them, sucking them in like a black hole. Shizuo had never wanted to run from something more in his life.

But he didn’t. He stayed where he was, firmly planted, by fear maybe, or determination to figure this out. He reached out desperately for the anger he’d felt earlier, hung onto that as he faced this thing down. It didn’t move toward him, didn’t do anything, only sat there which was bad enough as it was, so Shizuo was vaguely grateful.

“What do you _want_?” Shizuo repeated, and he couldn’t help the way his voice shook. He wanted to tear this thing apart, get it out of his sight, cast it away, back into whatever hole it’d crawled out of.

It shifted like a liquid, smoothly, and Shizuo could feel it looking at him. That might not have been so bad, but then its expression started to twist, becoming more defined in the process, and Shizuo could see teeth. They looked like normal human teeth, but they were the only definite feature the thing had so it didn’t make it any easier to look at. He realized then that it was smiling at him, or trying to, a sharp, cold thing that made him feel like he could no longer suck enough air into his lungs. Worse yet, it seemed like it was trying to actually open its mouth, maybe to say something.

It didn’t get to.

Someone opened the door behind him to walk outside, making Shizuo jump about three feet in the air and when Shizuo turned back the thing was gone as quickly as it had come. Shizuo didn’t know the guy who’d been walking by, but he must have looked pretty bad because he stopped. “Hey, man,” he said. “You okay? You’re white as a ghost.”

Shizuo couldn’t even muster up the urge to be irritated by it, only nodding to get the guy to go on his way.

That night Shizuo decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d been shaken all day because of the encounter and he couldn’t _live_ like this. He jerked awake in a cold sweat and noticed a shadow hovering in one of the corners of his ceiling as it had been all week, ominous, silent, unmoving. He couldn’t tell if it really was more human-shaped now or if it was his imagination. He didn’t care; he sat up and glared at it.

“I’m not doing this anymore,” he whispered harshly at it. The last thing he wanted to do was wake up Celty. “I know you can understand me. Come down here and tell me what the fuck you are and what you want.”

Laughter echoed around the room. The thing was stretching out again, coalescing into a more obvious shape. Shizuo stood his ground, thoroughly fed up with all this. The paranoia was eating him alive. “I’m dead fucking serious. I’ll kill you.” The last threat slipped out unthinkingly, but it felt good to snap at it, to let out some of the tension building in his chest.

That, for whatever reason, seemed to do it. The thing was fully visible again, its presence turning the air in the room to ice. It sat up on top of his bookshelf, obviously human in shape, swinging its legs back and forth like it wasn’t six feet up in the air. It was still a black smudge, but its limbs were defined. It looked like an outline that someone had colored in black instead of adding more detail to it. Shizuo couldn’t decide whether he liked it less or more when he could actually see the damn thing. Its face remained vague, unrecognizable, but its mouth was there as before.

The smile was back as well and Shizuo knew it was looking right at him. The thing laughed again and it sounded more hysterical than before, more honest, like someone’s actual laugh instead of those empty, fake recordings they played over the top of game shows sometimes. Eventually it stopped, and then, finally, it spoke.

Shizuo didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t what he got. The thing’s voice didn’t match its looks at all: it sounded like a voice he’d hear coming out of any ordinary guy’s mouth. The dissonance was disconcerting, but he’d have to leave that for later so he could focus on what it was saying to him.

“I’d love to see you try,” it cooed at him, quiet and smooth. “But unfortunately, I don’t think you can kill what’s already dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will update every third day to the best of my ability. Thank you for reading~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the short chapters. The length will get a bit better as time goes on. 
> 
> I also made a [playlist](http://8tracks.com/aliceeecrivain/ghost-stories) for this story if anyone is interested in that~

Incidentally, Orihara Izaya didn’t believe in ghosts either. That was, until he’d become one.

Needless to say, this wasn’t what he’d been expecting from death. He wouldn’t call it disappointing, but it was certainly off-putting, being dragged back into the world he’d recently departed from in a strange, new form, seemingly tethered there for eternity.

Perhaps stranger than opening his eyes again to find himself mostly intact was opening his eyes to find himself floating around the ceiling of an unfamiliar room above a sleeping boy who he hadn’t recognized until he’d turned over and Izaya caught sight of exactly whose room he was in.

Whoever ran the afterlife—maybe the universe in general, for all he knew—had a twisted sense of humor.

Still, he hadn’t thought it would be a problem. Once he’d gotten over the shock of having returned and stored away the existential crisis that came with it for a later date, he’d gotten ready to move. There was no reason to stay there. If he had his free will back, there were plenty of other more interesting things he could be doing than hanging around digging up old hatchets.

Being a ghost was odd in that things could be as solid or as intangible as he wanted them to be. At least, that was what he’d thought at first before he realized that it was _him_ who was doing the changing. Standing in front of Shizuo’s mirror, he’d tested it out a few times, making himself translucent, nothing more than a shadow, and then fully solid again. He didn’t look how he thought ghosts were supposed to look, really, but he didn’t mind. Retaining his previous form meant he at least knew how to use it and didn’t have to adjust to being a white floaty thing in a sheet.

With that, he’d decided depart, casting one last look at Heiwajima Shizuo before he went. Some of his most vivid memories starred the sleeping man, but he’d never been able to decide whether they were good or bad. However, after he’d drifted what he took to be about 150 meters away, he found he couldn’t go any further. It was as if he’d hit up against a wall he couldn’t see, invisible in the dark of the night surrounding him, or as if a chain was attached to his ankle, jerking him back, tying him down.

Izaya spent the remainder of the night trying other directions, doing all he could to break free, and had come to a vexing conclusion: he was somehow, for some reason, tied inextricably to Shizuo himself. It wasn’t as if he _wanted_ to hang around, following Shizuo to all his mind-numbing classes, trailing along after him as he plodded along through his boring life, but he couldn’t leave. It seemed his continued existence was pivotal on Shizuo and he hated it.

Izaya thought of all the things he could be doing, that he could be seeing instead of being stuck to Shizuo like a dog on a leash and irritation bubbled up in his chest. That was how his little haunting show had started in the first place. It had continued because it wasn’t like there was anything better to do and anyway, it was fun, messing around with Shizuo. It was cute how he tried to deny Izaya’s existence, tried to look the other way, but eventually he had to face facts, and that he had. Izaya almost wished it’d gone on a bit longer. He did love watching the way fear crawled its way across Shizuo’s face, how tight his muscles always were, knowing that it was all because of him. Shizuo was easy to play with and Izaya took full advantage.

Izaya thought he might have a right anyway, to get a bit of revenge. He and Shizuo had met twice when he was still alive, once when they were quite young, which Shizuo seemed to have forgotten entirely which Izaya resented if only because he couldn’t forget it, and the second when they were high school. Save for one outstanding encounter, it hadn’t ended well.

Shizuo had been haunting him since primary school, so it was only fair that he got a turn.

Unfortunately, it looked as though the game might be up, seeing how Shizuo had decided to confront him directly and he couldn’t resist replying. He wasn’t ready to reveal himself quite yet he didn’t think and he wasn’t entirely sure that wasn’t in part because of the thought that Shizuo might not even remember him a second time. So, he sat up on top of Shizuo’s bookshelf—one of his favorite perches—and kept himself indistinct for the time being. Shizuo was pale and sweaty, bright hair stuck to his forehead, his eyes wide and searching, but he wasn’t looking away any longer.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shizuo demanded in a half-snarl, always so defensive.

Izaya sighed, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the ceiling. He’d forgotten how dull Shizuo could be sometimes. “What do you think? Use your brain, Shizuo.” He had to stop himself from using the nickname he’d given Shizuo back in high school at the last second, sure it would be a giveaway.

Shizuo growled at him, but did appear thoughtful. “So what, you’re already dead?”

“Last time I checked,” Izaya joked, remembering it very clearly. It’d only been a week ago, after all.

Shizuo was frowning. “Then why are you still here? And what do you want with me?”

Izaya frowned, annoyed by hearing the same questions he’d been asking thrown back at him. Still, he knew it would be better in the long run to pretend like he knew what he was doing. “I’m here to haunt you, obviously. That’s what ghosts do. I’d hoped you could figure that much out for yourself.” He kept his tone light, not bothering to bend his voice like he had his form throughout the past week. He didn’t know how anyway and he wanted to keep Shizuo on edge.

Shizuo’s eyes widened, but he looked angrier than ever. “Why me? What’d I ever do to you?”

That set Izaya off again. He couldn’t help it. He cackled at Shizuo and thought to himself, _Why wait? Now’s as good a time as any._ “I’ll give you a hint.” Izaya brought himself into view fully, defining himself so he knew Shizuo would be able to see him, even in the dark of his room, and stared Shizuo down, holding his gaze as much as the other would allow.

Shizuo fell silent immediately, emotions flashing quickly across his face, never settling.

“Ring a bell?” Izaya asked, smirking, still kicking his legs.

Shizuo opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. He was frozen still, and Izaya could feel his eyes running over him. Izaya drank in the sight. “How…” he began then trailed off, sitting up straighter. “I—Izaya?”

Izaya beamed, giddy at finally having revealed himself. “Surprise, Shizu-chan.”

Then Shizuo’s eyes narrowed. “How do I know you’re not just taking whoever’s shape you feel like?”

Izaya clenched his jaw, but kept his expression calm, flippant. “Does it make a difference? Would it make you feel better or worse, knowing it’s really me?”

Shizuo was wary in a way he hadn’t been before, treating him differently now that he knew who he was. Izaya thought he felt a bit proud of that. Even without his new bag of tricks he could still make Shizuo sit up straighter. Shizuo’s eyebrows drew down, a heavy line across his face and he shook his head. Izaya kept swinging his legs. “How…how did this happen?”

Izaya rolled his eyes slowly and sighed dramatically. “I’m not your ghost of Christmas past, present, or future, Shizu-chan. I’m not here to explain the concept of _death_ to you. You can figure that one out on your own.”

That tweaked his temper just right, just the way Izaya remembered. “Shut up. I know how it works. I meant how’d you die? You’re like 19 and you weren’t sick last time I saw you.”

Izaya shrank back from the topic instinctively, shooting Shizuo a cool look. “Why should I tell you? Don’t you think that’d be quite the sensitive line of questioning for someone such as myself?” He let himself drift down off the top of the shelf, over toward Shizuo until he was floating over the bed as if laying on his stomach, his knees bent up and his face in his hands. Shizuo jerked back from him at first but didn’t flee.

“I still don’t believe you’re really him,” Shizuo declared, glancing around more, as if checking to see if he was somehow suspended by wires.

Izaya rolled over in mid-air for his benefit, tilting his head back and looking at him upside down. He giggled at the look on Shizuo’s face and thought it might be fun to poke at a particular memory they shared. It would probably be bothersome to him as well, but he could handle it. “I don’t see why I should have to prove anything to you, but I’m happy to reminisce. Remember that afternoon we spent together, alone in that empty classroom? I’d think you would, but knowing your brain capacity, it might have slipped your mind.”

Shizuo was looking at him blankly and Izaya felt the overwhelming urge to stab him with something. Still, he continued on. “Allow me to refresh your memory. Remember the way you backed me in there, closed the door behind us? I would’ve thought you had it all planned out if you hadn’t been so embarrassed when you shoved me up against the wall and felt how it was affecting me.” Izaya had never been particularly ashamed of that day, but now especially he felt no need to hold back. What did he have left to lose? “Remember how you bent me over the desk? How you held my hands down? How you left bruises? Well, maybe you don’t remember that. What would it matter to you? You got off and that was the important part.” It wasn't as if Izaya hadn't enjoyed it as well—Shizuo never would have gotten him in there in the first place if he hadn't wanted to go—but Izaya knew that was one of Shizuo's easier buttons to push.

“Shut _up_!” Shizuo, whose face had been growing increasingly red as he spoke, reached up and actually swiped out at him. Izaya dodged out of the way just in time, moving up out of Shizuo’s reach. He looked scandalized and furious, but no longer uncertain of Izaya’s identity.

Izaya laughed, making sure it was mocking. “Sorry to rain on your parade, Shizu-chan, but the skeletons in your closet won’t go away just because you punch them.” He was—well, not living, but sure proof of that and he might have loved it, might have reveled in his opportunity if Shizuo wasn’t the last person he wanted to spend the rest of his afterlife, or whatever this was, around.

Shizuo wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was shaking his head. “This isn’t real,” he muttered.

Anger flared through Izaya like someone had set him on fire, and it wasn’t probably all meant for Shizuo, but he was a good target at the moment. Not only had he not died like he should have, not only was he tethered to a single person, unable to do as he wished, not only was that single person someone he despised, not _only_ was he alone to deal with all of this, come to terms with this new ridiculous, meaningless existence of his, but now Shizuo had the gall to dismiss it. Worse yet was that he could do it. He could go on with his life, Izaya be damned. Meanwhile, Izaya was stuck, grounded, forced into it. No one had asked him if he wanted to come back. No one had asked him if he wanted to believe it.

This was his reality now and Shizuo had waved it off without thinking about it. Something ached in Izaya’s chest and he decided he’d had enough. He laughed once more, hard, more of a scoff than anything else. “Just keep telling yourself that, Shizu-chan,” he suggested, as sweetly as he could manage. Already he was pulling back up into himself, blending in with the dark of the room, unravelling into nothingness. Shizuo preferred the unknown ghost to him anyway. He wasn’t a stranger to being faceless. “When you feel like having a civil conversation, I’ll be around.”

Izaya left Shizuo’s room behind then, taking the last word and clutching it tightly. He couldn’t go far, but Shizuo’s apartment wasn’t large. Izaya went to hover in the kitchen, fighting back everything that was trying to rise up from his chest. He hated being so powerless, he hated feeling trapped, but there was nothing he could do. Shizuo was going to have to learn to put up with him one way or another, that much he knew.

Ultimately, both of them were caged by this, and he supposed they would be until he found a way to snap the connection. He doubted Shizuo would be much help.

Izaya heard rustling in Shizuo’s room for a while after he made his exit, but he never followed him out, never went looking. Izaya couldn’t sleep, not because he didn’t want to, but because he physically couldn’t. Instead he stayed up, his mind full of days long past, good memories and bad, gold sun slipping its way in through closed blinds in a classroom and too much red.


	3. Chapter 3

Shizuo couldn’t believe that this was happening. He couldn’t. He didn’t _want to_. Not only was he supposed to suddenly accept the existence of ghosts, or at the very least supernatural beings that could float around and change form, but that he was being haunted by one. And not just any ghost, but the ghost of a guy he’d known for maybe three total months in high school. Sure, they’d managed to build up quite the history between the two of them during that time, but Shizuo had more or less forgotten about it until he’d popped back up, invading his daily life, shoving in where he didn’t belong so many months later.

He still wasn’t completely sure whether he could believe that thing _was_ Izaya, but if it wasn’t, did that mean it could read his mind? Because he hadn’t told _anyone_ about that afternoon in the classroom, not even Celty or his brother.

No. Shizuo didn’t understand, couldn’t physically process it, but it had to be him. But then how?

His mind was full to bursting with questions to the point where it went entirely blank because he couldn’t think and talk to the thing, or Izaya, rather, at the same time. He had plenty of time for them later when Izaya floated out in a huff for no discernable reason. Shizuo exhaled sharply when he did, slapping his hands against his face as if that would make him wake up. He’d known himself to be paranoid, but never to the point of seeing things that detailed.

Somehow, some way, all of this was happening, and it was happening to him, meaning he was going to have to deal with it.

Sitting alone in the dark of his room, attempting to shake off the residual anxiety encounters with Izaya always left on him, his mind ran itself around in circles until it settled on two simple questions: _Why?_ and _How?_ Izaya had to know the answer to at least one of those, if not both, and he was going to get them out of him one way or another.

It wouldn’t be easy. Izaya had never been one to spill secrets, particularly if he could use them to his advantage if he didn’t. He was stubborn to the point of it being dangerous, not that it mattered now since he was apparently _dead_ , but Shizuo would find a way. He had before.

 _Izaya._ Shizuo hadn’t thought he’d ever see him again. That was enough of a shock in and of itself, but that on top of everything else was enough to leave him completely wrung-out, his heart pounding in his temples hard enough to form a persistent headache. He ended up lying back down after keeping watch for Izaya’s return for what felt like hours, too exhausted to stay up any longer. He couldn’t fall asleep either, his mind too active to allow it, but it was better than nothing. The only thing there was space left for in his mind was to run through his memories of the other boy.

He’d crashed his way into Shizuo’s life with about as much warning the first time, showing up midway through the year and briefly becoming the talk of the school. He’d targeted Shizuo for reasons he didn’t understand then too, bugging him, following him, eventually trying to pick a fight. He was persistent thorn in Shizuo’s side that he couldn’t seem to remove no matter how many punches he threw at him. He’d always pop back up with that infuriating smirk and too-smooth voice that turned his words into a purr even when they were meant to be a threat and knowing eyes that he saw in his very dreams, ready for another round.

Shizuo didn’t understand him and he understood even less why whenever Izaya was nearby he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away. Well, he guessed he’d figured that part out well enough that afternoon in the classroom. Izaya’s lips were softer than they looked but his mouth tasted like poison. Still, he didn’t stick around long enough to give Shizuo a fatal dose. It’d all come to a head that day and tapered out from there. Izaya left as suddenly as he’d come, trailed by a swirl of rumors that his parents moved a lot or that he was in some witness protection program. Shizuo didn’t really care why he’d left; it only mattered to him that he was gone.

He hadn’t known how to feel about it then and he didn’t know how to feel about it now either which only served to make him angry. He stayed where he was, simmering until dawn finally broke, pale and milky over his windowsill like the whites of an egg, and he heard the telltale signs of Celty heading out for her early morning run. She’d always been a morning person where Shizuo would sleep until noon unless it was necessary for him to get up—ordinarily—and he’d never understood it, but for once he was grateful for it.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Shizuo flung his blankets off and stormed out into the main area of the apartment, only to kick himself internally when he didn’t see Izaya. The picture he’d had in his head had him sprawled out all over their couch, acting like he didn’t know what Shizuo was talking about, but that wasn’t happening. It obviously hadn’t sunk in yet that he wasn’t the obnoxious, enigmatic teenager with a too-fake smile and too-red eyes, but an actual fucking ghost.

He couldn’t help it. It was too ridiculous even in his head. He couldn’t imagine saying it out loud without wanting to slap himself. _I can’t believe this is happening._

For all he knew Izaya was long gone, but then, why’d he been hanging around in the first place? He’d revealed himself to Shizuo who might be goaded into the occasional jump or automatic scare occasionally but would never feel as unsettled as he once been about the shadow tailing him. Hell, maybe he had left. The shadow was nowhere to be found even when Shizuo meticulously scanned the room, but when he’d made his dramatic exit last night—or maybe it was earlier that day—it had sure seemed like there was something Izaya wanted to talk about. There was more to this than he was telling Shizuo.

“If you’re out here, come out,” Shizuo ordered, jittering with the nervous energy he’d built up laying around doing nothing all night but running around in circles in his head. He clenched his fists at his sides as if he could catch it and hold it in his hands. There was no response which was typical.

Maybe Izaya was just there to fuck with him. That seemed like the kind of thing he would do: die young and then hang around for the hell of it. But it didn’t fit quite right within the picture of Izaya Shizuo had in his head. He might come back for a while, but he was also the type to get bored easily. No way would he stick around forever. Shizuo hardly lived the most entertaining life. Even a week seemed like a long time.

“Quit hiding,” Shizuo said to the empty apartment, feeling more and more like an idiot by the second. “You wanted to talk, let’s talk.”

Another silence. This one was punctuated by a crash that seemed to come from the bathroom. Shizuo breathed out through his teeth and went to investigate, not in the mood to play anymore of Izaya’s games. What awaited for him was his bottle of hair dye knocked over, pouring out onto the floor, and a crude drawing on the mirror of one figure bending another over a desk with a heart around it. Shizuo exhaled, pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself not to break the mirror.

As he moved to pick up the now-empty bottle, he wondered how long Izaya was going to keep on this topic. Shizuo supposed he didn’t know really how Izaya felt about what had happened, but at the time he’d been pretty damn sure everything they’d done was completely consensual. Rough? Yeah. Messy? Sure. But never once in the process had there been any demands to stop. In fact, there had been a lot more egging-on than anything else. Maybe Izaya had ended up regretting it in the long run. (Shizuo himself had repressed the memory more than anything else. No one wanted to think about how they’d lost their virginity in an empty classroom at school to a guy they supposedly hated.)

Maybe Izaya had come back because he’d held a grudge over it. Shizuo thought he’d heard of that happening before in the movies.

He moved to start wiping the drawing off of the mirror before he realized it had been done in permanent marker.

That was it. Shizuo slammed his fist down on the counter. “Izaya!”

That drew him out. There was cackling before he showed himself. Shizuo whipped around, trying to catch a glimpse of him. He was up above the shower, back to being a creepy black smudge with a humanoid form, with only his teeth for contrast. “Just like old times, ne, Shizu-chan?”

“Get the fuck down from there,” Shizuo demanded. “And I told you to stop hiding.”

“Why should I listen to you? You can’t hurt me.” Izaya didn’t move and didn’t change form, only stretched out lazily like he was settling back on a futon.

Shizuo knew that. It didn’t mean he didn’t want to. It _did_ mean that he was beginning to despise all of this more and more every second it continued. He didn’t know how to respond to Izaya’s words in any way other than simply growling at him which he knew would do no good. Instead, he inhaled deeply through his nose and tried to refocus. “So what? You’re just gonna hang around and mess with me from now on?”

Izaya shrugged and Shizuo wished more than anything that he could see his face. He was impossible to interpret even when he’d been a fully-fledged human being, let alone now when he was nothing more than a cloud of smoke. “What else would I be doing here? You think I came back for some emotional reunion, some big confession? Rising up from the dead as some grand gesture?” He laughed and it was as cold and sharp as the first time Shizuo had heard it, detached and inhuman. “Not even you’re that naïve.”

Shizuo scowled, not even wanting to look at him anymore. He felt entirely powerless to stop any of this and it was the worst. He wanted to rip Izaya down from the ceiling, shake him, maybe hit his head up against the counter, _anything_ , but he knew he couldn’t. “What’s in it for you?” he demanded, scrambling to keep up, fighting to get any answers. “You could go anywhere, do anything. It’s not like anyone can see you if you don’t want them to, so why stick around here?”

There was a pause, a stutter, almost managing to go unnoticed, but it was there, catching Shizuo’s attention. “You’re just so fun to play with,” Izaya claimed, recovering immediately. “So easy too.” The suggestive tone was not missed and it grated upon Shizuo’s nerves. “If you want me gone, that’s all the more reason for me to stay, don’t you think?”

Shizuo narrowed his eyes, frowning. Something was up, but he was fed up with this conversation already and there was no way Izaya would give in so easily. He shoved up off the counter, turning to exit the bathroom, leaving Izaya where he was without another word. He needed to clean up the mirror before Celty got back which didn’t give him much time, if at all possible. He’d break it as a last resort, not because he was afraid of the bad luck that was supposed to follow—it seemed he didn’t need to do anything to get more than his fair share of that—but because he didn’t really want to waste money on a new one.

He was gratified to hear a quiet, mildly offended noise echo out at him from the bathroom before Izaya followed him out, dropping down to the floor to do his version of walking which still seemed more like floating than anything else, too smooth, too liquid to fit the mechanical motion. Shizuo ignored him. It was difficult, but it was going to have to be that way if they were going to ever make any progress. He needed to shove Izaya into the back of his thoughts, act like he was a piece of furniture—an obnoxious, unsettling, piece of shit lamp that followed him everywhere for no damn logical reason.

Shizuo didn’t wear patient well, he never had, but he didn’t know what else to do. Izaya was a pain in the ass, hanging around all the time, but he didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving and Shizuo didn’t think he could make him. He thought briefly about trying to hire someone to do an exorcism or some shit, but was quick to discard the idea. He didn’t want Celty or anyone else to know what was happening. The last thing he wanted was for Izaya to start terrorizing them too.

Which he would, surely, Shizuo thought. He had to get bored eventually. Shizuo built up a wall around himself, locked down his temper to the best of his ability, gripped his self-control as close to his chest as he could, and pretended like Izaya wasn’t getting to him. He wasn’t the same angry, out-of-control kid he’d been in high school. And anyway, he had a theory he wanted to test, but it was going to require time.

They certainly weren’t lacking for that.

The week creeped by in a blur of cool grey days, each one fading into the next. Shizuo went to class, studied, spent time with Celty every once in a while, kept to himself. There was never a moment when he couldn’t sense Izaya and more often than not he could see him. Shizuo could tell he was pissed off by the lack of communication between them which was a good start. One side effect of the stalemate was his messing around intensified to the point where Shizuo had to more or less sit on anything valuable or dangerous—like his phone or his lighter—at all times to keep them safe. He knew Izaya could touch him, had felt it before, but for some reason, he stayed away, never lashed out at him directly.

Shizuo was right about Izaya extending his reach to the people around him. He didn’t even bother to start of subtly as he had with Shizuo, but got straight to the quick of things.

The worst was one day when he managed to get ahold of both Shizuo and Celty’s keys and locked them out of their apartment in the middle of what was looking to be the first snowstorm of the season. The winds were picking up and the sky was darkening like someone had thrown a heavy blanket over it. Shizuo had been clenching his jaw, digging his nails into his palms to the point where they bled all week, but his façade cracked then.

He’d been trying not to talk to Izaya at all if he could help it and, if he did, to keep it painfully nonchalant. The only memorable time had been when he asked, “Can other people see you?” walking home from a class where Izaya had been hovering over the teacher’s head the entire time.

Izaya was fuzzy, hardly visible in the mid-morning light, but he laughed at Shizuo nonetheless. “You think people can see me? You might be putting on a good show, but I hope your memory isn’t so atrocious that you forgot the way you ran home scared last week just because I was walking behind you.” His tone was cold, his words sharpened to cut deep. There was something resigned about his voice though that Shizuo wasn’t sure how to interpret.

Shizuo shrugged. “So what you’re saying is you’re _letting_ me see you. And you could let them see you too, if you wanted.”

Izaya hummed rather than answering, and Shizuo let it drop.

It was nice to know that he was at least getting on Izaya’s nerves. It felt like payback in general, but also helped to lessen his own rising levels of restlessness. He had a million questions— _Is this going to go on forever? Will I ever get my life back? Why are you doing this? What do you want? How can this possibly be real?_ —but was holding back from them. Izaya had to break first or this wouldn’t work. He might be slow, but he knew that much. Izaya might think he didn’t remember anything from their previous encounter, but that wasn’t the case. With the two of them, stubborn as they were, it wasn’t a game of who was quicker, but of who could last longer.

But now, rattling forcefully on the door to the apartment, yanking on it with all his strength, Shizuo couldn’t help it.

“Izaya!” he shouted, out into the empty air, slowly filling with pale swirls of icy snow. His fingers ached already from the cold and he couldn’t feel his nose. “Bring my keys back right now!”

Nothing. He kicked hard enough at the door to make his foot ache like he might have broken a toe, barely stopped himself from shouting wordlessly into the night in frustration. “Give them back, you shitty louse! I fucking know you have them!”

“Why should I?”

It was too dark to see where he was. Shizuo was more or less blind and the growing storm wasn’t helping anything. He felt a slice of hot pain slide up the skin of his arm and turned to lash out at the source only to find his keyring dangling in midair. He snatched for it, almost falling over and it lifted up out of reach, high above his head. In spite of the cold, Shizuo’s skin felt like it was on fire.

He snarled at Izaya and looked down at his arm which was bleeding, his sleeve pushed up, a jagged mark tracing down to his elbow. It was messy since it’d been done with the key, but the cold was making it so he could barely feel it a few seconds after it had happened. Shizuo didn’t know what he would have done next if Celty hadn’t showed up, running over from where she’d parked her bike around the corner. He was hardly in his right mind and he doubted he would have thought to call campus security until a while later.

“Shizuo?” Celty signed frantically at him as she approached, making him jump. He probably looked crazy, rabid, who knew. Her eyes were wide as she took him in. “What are you doing out here?” Luckily he didn’t have to think of an excuse quite yet. “What happened to your arm?!” Her arms were hugged around herself tightly and both of them were shivering. Their breath was condensing in front of them to the point where they might as well have been smoking, but it was blown away by the wind seconds later in a constant pattern.

Shizuo shook himself, scrambled to come up with an excuse. He’d never been a good liar and with the way he’d been avoiding her all week she was bound to be more suspicious than ever. “I caught it on a branch and then I got here and realized I lost my keys.”

Laughter echoed above them into the night, but Celty didn’t seem to notice. She frowned, her eyes filling with concern. “Let’s get you inside. That looks really bad.” She didn’t comment on the blatant fallacy of his words quite yet. She went to dig through her bag to get her keys out.

A couple quiet minutes of frantic digging later, Shizuo realized they really had a problem on their hands. “I can’t find mine either,” Celty admitted, clearly panicked. “Do you think someone stole them?”

 _Yes_ , Shizuo thought angrily. _Actually, I know exactly where they are_. He scowled out into the empty night. “I don’t know,” he muttered through his teeth.

Celty sighed. “We could contact campus security, but who knows how long it would take them to get there?” She thought for another second and Shizuo tried to focus on her familiar face, admiring how calm she always was, even in a situation like this, immediately getting over her emotions to think logically. “Come on.” She was already moving. Shizuo clutched his arm close to him and followed after her automatically. “I’ll drive us over to Shinra’s. I’m sure he’ll let us stay. It’s Saturday tomorrow anyway. By then they’ll have unlocked our door.”

Shizuo didn’t know what to feel anymore. Between the opposing forces of the cold and the anger burning him out, he wasn’t really thinking at all. He climbed on the back of Celty’s bike and let her drive them over to where her boyfriend lived alone off campus, letting his eyes unfocus and watching the world turn into a blur of white. Shinra was happy to see Celty at first before he realized what was going on. He was quick to usher them in and fix Shizuo up once he was filled in.

Shizuo didn’t remember saying another complete sentence for the rest of the night. Celty didn’t push him but he felt her eyes on him more often than not. His arm hurt like hell once he thawed out; Shinra informed him that any deeper and it would have needed stitches. He thought he might be partially in shock because of what had happened. He supposed he knew, theoretically, that Izaya could hurt him if he wanted to, could probably even kill him, he just hadn’t thought he would go that far, and certainly not so soon.

Maybe that was what he wanted.

Shinra set him up in the living room on the couch and put Celty in his spare room. Shizuo didn’t mind. He doubted he’d get much sleep anyway.

There was a weight on top of him that hadn’t been there before, forcing his hips down into the couch at one point; Shizuo glanced at the red digital numbers of the clock in Shinra’s living room and saw it was a little past two in the morning. He froze where he was, not moving in the least. His keys were dangled in front of his face again and dropped with a heavy clunk on his chest when he didn’t reach for them. He could still see his blood on the sharp of one of them.

Shizuo took a deep breath in through his nose even though Izaya’s weight, in spite of being less than his own, surely, felt like it was suffocating him and waited until he could see the other man’s face before he flipped him off onto the floor. He must have managed to catch Izaya off-guard because the other actually fell, knocking his head up against the table and staying down in a crumpled heap on the floor instead of floating away infuriatingly per usual.

Shizuo wanted to kick him, throw the keys at him, hurt him back but worse more than anything, but he held back, dug his fingers hard into the fabric of the couch and sat up, scowling down at Izaya who’d started to laugh. It was broken and hysterical, too high and too thin like he couldn’t gasp in enough air either.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Shizuo hissed, careful to keep his voice down.

That only made Izaya laugh louder.

Shizuo huffed, rolled his eyes up, wished he knew what the hell to do, how to handle this crazy situation. But he didn’t. It was too much for him, still too overwhelming even a week later. His arm and head ached, and he was exhausted down to his bones. He flopped back down onto the couch, shoving his face into the pillows. “I fucking hate you. You know that, right?”

There were nails on his skin again, scratching down his good arm. He flinched back, slapped at the hurt but didn’t hit anything but air. The fingers returned a few moments later, running through his hair and tugging hard. He fought back a shudder. Izaya’s skin was colder than the outside air had ever been and it took everything he had in him not to pull back from it.

“I’d be worried if you didn’t.”

“Is that what you want?” Shizuo demanded, still not looking at Izaya or at anything. “Or do you really want to kill me?”

Silence. Shizuo let out another unsteady breath as the grip on his hair loosened until it was more of a casual hold, far too intimate, disturbingly so. “Do you _know_ what you want?”

He’d asked it on a whim, but it’d hit home, finally. Izaya ran his fingers down along the edge of his jaw but then pulled back entirely, still not deigning to answer. The air around him stayed frozen, indicating Izaya was still around, but he didn’t make any move to interact with Shizuo for the rest of the night. Shizuo didn’t move, tried to ignore the way it felt like someone had burned him everywhere Izaya had touched.

His keys were still there in the morning. Izaya wasn’t.


	4. Chapter 4

Izaya hadn’t known what it would feel like to be dead, didn’t think it was humanly comprehensible actually, but he’d assumed it would be better than this.

Not better in that he’d assumed there’d be an afterlife, golden trumpets and a land of clouds welcoming him in, but that there’d be a lack of everything, some sort of profound nothingness that one couldn’t understand while they were still living. And for a few seconds, he thought maybe he’d brushed up against something similar, like sinking into a pool of ink, everything going slowly dark, and then he’d been yanked right back up, almost violently.

He did his best to take advantage of any situation he was in, always had, but he was having a hard time seeing any positive side to this. Tricking Shizuo was fun, but being around him constantly was torture. Worse yet, the oaf was managing to act like he wasn’t there, was ignoring him, hardly reacting even when Izaya had lit his textbooks on fire one day.

Izaya had always thought of himself as fairly independent, self-made, self-monitoring, not in need of anyone else to reinforce his existence or give him reason to live. He didn’t believe that one’s life held a defined purpose. One could certainly make one up for themselves, chase it around until they died, but it wasn’t real. There was far less structure in the world than people would like to admit. He liked to be the one looking in, the one observing, or had at least, but he’d always had the option of interacting with whoever he wished, coming off however he wanted—inviting, attractive, intimidating, earnest, and so on—always had utter control over his own life.

Sure, it could be ostracizing, even lonely, but he didn’t think about that. He’d kept busy the best he could, kept his mind elsewhere, off that particular part of his life. It didn’t always work. His current situation was obnoxiously blatant proof of that.

But now his freedom was gone and he was nailed down, reliant on one person for acknowledgement and interaction, and if he wasn’t already six feet under, he would say that it was killing him.

Because Shizuo was wrong.

He was the only one who could see Izaya as far as he could tell. He didn’t have some intricate control system where he could pick and choose who could see him and who couldn’t. No one had thrown him a guidebook entitled “How To: A Guide to the Afterlife,” no one had given him any tips on how any of this worked. He’d been thrust into this existence blind and unwilling, and as much as Shizuo would probably like to think he was having worse time out of the two of them, Izaya would beg to differ.

Izaya could interact with other people if they were close enough to Shizuo, could move their books, knock over their water bottle or the like, but that was about it. He could stand fully formed on a teacher’s desk in the middle of a lecture and no one would bat an eye. It was only Shizuo, always only him.

It was excruciating and mind-numbing. Being a ghost was horribly dull just in general, and especially when you were attached to a single person. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, didn’t have to even breathe if he didn’t want to. He was completely numb too, couldn’t feel bite of the wind versus the warm of the house, didn’t feel pain, even, evidently, when his head was knocked against a hard table. He could feel textures it seemed, but not temperature. He was pretty sure he could stick his hand into a fire and not feel a thing.

The few things he could do came somewhat naturally to him. Changing forms was like walking in that he couldn’t explain exactly how to do it. He just did it, and it happened like moving any other muscle. The only thing he found some joy in was his apparent ability to not be affected by gravity if he didn’t want to be. He liked to climb up high into the sky up over Shizuo’s head as far as he could, look over the campus, disappear into the clouds, see the promise of snow in the ice crystals turning them swollen, be above it all.

Mostly though, he felt awfully empty and numb, like someone had shot him up with too much Novocain and then pumped his stomach. Time was strange and meaningless, didn’t seem to pass by him correctly even if he stared at a clock and watched the minutes drift past. With Shizuo ignoring him the way he was—if it wasn’t so infuriating he would almost be impressed by the other man’s self-control. In Izaya’s memories he’d had considerably less of it and it had been one of Izaya’s favorite things about him. The man before him was almost unrecognizable and it didn’t help Izaya’s constant disassociation in the least—he was trapped within his own head most of the time, desperately seeking out an answer to this puzzle that had been placed before him.

His only solutions were cliché at best, revolting at worst. He had to believe it was some ridiculous unfinished business nonsense, but that was far too vague to be of any help. His only specific regret about what had happened was that it resulted in _this_ which he hadn’t and wouldn’t have ever expected. And then there was the Shizuo factor.

It’d been a fun couple of months, running around with Shizuo in high school. There was something electric, magnetic about him that drew Izaya to him like a piece of metal that couldn’t resist the pull. He was a live flame in human form and Izaya couldn’t care less about getting burned. Izaya had managed to draw him in and maybe he hadn’t been expecting it to go where it had at first, but sprawled out on his back on top of a desk, flushed and breathing hard with Shizuo’s teeth on his neck he hadn’t been complaining.

But then his family had moved and he’d had to leave Shizuo and everything that came with him behind. It had been a clean break. Nothing lasted forever in Izaya’s world, never had. He learned that early on and had trained his attention span to match his lifestyle. The world was full of endless possibilities anyway, so it hardly mattered. Even if his mind lingered on the idea of Shizuo, stroked along the memories of him heavy and hot on top of him for longer than usual, he’d attributed it to the sexual nature of their interaction which he’d never experienced before then. It was new, so of course it was more interesting. Moreover, Shizuo was and had always been unique in how quickly he’d caught Izaya’s eye and how well he’d held his gaze afterwards.

So what else was there?

Izaya was driving himself crazy trying to riddle it out. He didn’t want to accept failure, couldn’t really. He was fighting against everything about this as hard as he could and it was getting him nowhere. He hated it, but it was becoming difficult not to become overwhelmed by the possibility that there really was no way out of this, that he had lost.

Maybe it was punishment for the things he’d done in his life that had been deemed wrong or sinful. Maybe everyone’s was unique and this was his, the worst thing he could imagine: being stuck in one place, powerless, fruitlessly seeking out a meaning that probably didn’t actually exist for perpetuity.

His frustration built and built all week, spurred on by Shizuo’s behavior and had manifested in the nice mark he’d made in Shizuo’s arm with his key. The red looked nice on the gold of Shizuo’s skin and Izaya almost wanted to lick it up if only to see if he could taste it. It had broken Shizuo at the very least, even if only for a moment. He was faring no better in spite of the front he was putting up. They were too evenly matched and they were going to break down eventually, one way or another. It was only a matter of time.

It was too bad for Shizuo that Izaya hated waiting.

One week after their first confrontation not much had changed other than the tension between the two of them growing even more palpable. Even the incident with the keys, while a step in the right direction, appeared to do little lasting good. That afternoon Shizuo still went out with a small group of friends, dragging Izaya along by default.

So put-off was he by it that he tried once more to push against the invisible walls of his cage, struggling with all his might to break free with little success. Worse yet, as the seasons continued to change, winter sweeping away any lingering heat or life from the surrounding area, people spent less time outdoors, meaning hanging around outside the café was no less tedious than watching Shizuo talk and smile seemingly genuinely around his little friends.

There were two women, his roommate and a blonde who looked and sounded foreign, and three men, the doctor from the night previous—the roommate’s boyfriend, as he’d gathered—a man with dreadlocks, and a man named Kadota wearing a beanie. They chatted familiarly, ordered food and drink, appeared to be enjoying themselves. Izaya was so happy for them.

He took to sitting, fully visible, on the windowsill next to their table, watching people flow in and out of the small, homey establishment like the tide. Shizuo’s group was one of the only ones staying and sitting; most people were ordering their coffee to go and then bundling up as if preparing for a fight in order to weather the storm outside once more. Shizuo balked when he finally noticed Izaya about five minutes too late. They’d been discussing their classes, not that Izaya cared much but he couldn’t really help but eavesdrop. Old habits die hard and it wasn’t like he didn’t have a good excuse.

Izaya flashed a smile and wiggled his fingers at him, liking the way his hand moved instinctively to cover his hurt arm as if Izaya would lash out at him again at any time. He was right to be wary when Izaya felt as unstable as he did. At least it was something. Better than the harrowing emptiness that possessed him against his will now and again.

Shizuo scowled but pried his eyes away, ignoring him per usual, turning back to talk to his roommate. Something flared hot and angry like acid in Izaya’s chest because of it and his gripped the windowsill hard.

[How’d you say you hurt your arm again?] she was asking, holding up a phone. Apparently not everyone at the table was as proficient in sign language as Shizu-chan seemed to be—Izaya wondered when he’d picked that up, if he had some miracle turnaround in high school concerning his grades and ability to learn or if he’d just needed the right cause.

“Oh, that,” Shizuo muttered dumbly, looking down at it. Izaya wondered if he’d stick with that same lame excuse he’d used last time. The doctor, Shinra, was eyeing him suspiciously as well even as his face remained bland and open. Anyone with even the smallest amount of experience with cuts would know there was no way that was an accident. “I was walking back last night and it was pretty dark, but I think I caught it on some rough metal on a bench or a bike rack. It was hard to see.”

Shizuo really was the worst liar he’d ever seen. Now Celty was eyeing him oddly because of the change in his cover-up. The other three at the table grew concerned, frowning and muttering about how the school needed repairs.

“You should tell them the truth,” Izaya suggested quietly, drawing a whip-quick glance from Shizuo. There was something like fear in his eyes but it wasn’t for himself. “See what they’d say. What they’d think of you.”

“You okay there, Shizuo?” the man with the dreads, Tom, was asking. He pushed his glasses up his nose, looking Shizuo over. “Did you see something?” He glanced over in Izaya’s direction out the window and then back, none the wiser.

Shizuo had gone stiff, but relaxed when he realized he was still the only one who could see Izaya. “Nothing,” he muttered, shaking himself. Izaya clenched his teeth together. “Sorry, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“Sorry about that,” Shinra piped up. “I told you you might be better off on the floor than on that couch.”

[I said you could take the bed!] Celty added frantically, shoving her phone at Shizuo. 

That drew a small laugh out of him. “It’s fine. It wasn’t that. Just a bad dream.”

Maybe Izaya _would_ kill him. That would at least affect some tangible change. The conversation moved on and Izaya decided he’d had enough. It wasn’t hard. Just one quick movement and he knocked one of their glasses over, causing coffee to go spilling across the table. Most of them jumped in surprise since no one had been near it, hurrying to clean it up, grabbing napkins, flagging down a waiter. Izaya could feel the weight of Shizuo’s gaze back on him briefly, but he didn’t bother looking back.

“Sorry about that,” Kadota said, scooping his glass back up. “I thought I’d set it out of reach but I must have knocked it.”

“No big deal,” Tom commented, working to help clean up. “It happens.”

Izaya waited for them to clean up the first before he knocked over another. And then another. Brows grew increasingly furrowed all around with people glancing around aimlessly, attempting to find the source of the trouble. Shizuo looked like he might pop a blood vessel at any second. Izaya kept smiling, taking in the chaos.

[Do you think it’s aliens??] Celty ventured, eyes wide.

“Unlikely,” the blond girl, Vorona, replied, still working on mopping up the latest spill. “Studies do not yet show definitive proof of the existence of otherworldly beings. Moreover, it is highly improbable that such extraterrestrial creatures would spend time on such frivolous activities.”

Izaya frowned, not liking that tone, but was soon distracted by Shizuo who threw a quick, sharp, “ _Quit it_ ,” under his breath at him.

Izaya knocked over his glass right into his lap causing him to jerk back with a hiss. Everyone’s eyes flew over to him and the ruckus started up again, everyone sounding more unsettled than before.

“Are you okay?” Kadota asked Shizuo, who was most definitely not okay, glaring down at his stained clothes like they’d shot his mother when her back was turned.

“Not really,” Shizuo admitted. “I don’t feel that well. I think I’m going to head back.”

A few weak protests were thrown out but most people seemed to think it was for the best and didn’t argue. Celty offered him a ride back which he was smart enough not to take. Izaya decided from then on that it would be better to wait for him outside. He felt better already.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a bit of progress in this chapter ;) Thank you to everyone reading along so far and leaving kudos/comments. I truly appreciate it~

Shizuo had never been so furious in his entire life which was saying something given his track record. He couldn’t take this shit anymore, but he still had no idea how to make it better. He only knew that he couldn’t drag his friends into this any more than they had to be. Izaya didn’t know when to quit, clearly, and he was now, somehow, Shizuo’s responsibility to deal with.

They had to come to some kind of a truce. Shizuo had no goddamn idea how they could after everything Izaya had already done, but it had to happen. He was going to go insane otherwise.

The little shit was waiting for him outside. Shizuo kept his expression stony and walked right on past him, hardly feeling the cold. What he didn’t understand was why Izaya felt the need to do all this. His actions were bordering on vengeful, but from Shizuo’s point of view, _he_ had all the power. He could make Shizuo as crazy as he wanted with no repercussions of his own. He could go anywhere, do anything. That alone made everything so much more insulting and personal.

“Something wrong, Shizu-chan?” Izaya asked, drifting along beside him, looking like the cat that got the cream.

Shizuo wanted to strangle him. “Shut the fuck up. We’ll talk when we get back.”

“Why? Embarrassed to be seen with me?” Izaya asked, flitting around like an annoying bug. He kept talking, prodding, poking as always but Shizuo blocked him out.

Shizuo all but ripped the door off its hinges when they got back and slammed it right back shut in Izaya’s face once he was inside, not that it mattered. He couldn’t do anything and he fucking _couldn’t take it_. Squeezing his eyes shut he let out a shout at the ceiling, tensing all his muscles and swinging hard enough at the wall to break his goddamn fingers if he hadn’t broken them so many times already. It left a sizeable dent, visible proof of his rage, something else that was Izaya’s fault. Then it all rushed out of him like a floor collapsing beneath his feet, all the anger, all the frustration, all the pent up energy, and he collapsed down against the wall, pressing his hands hard against his face, his eyes burning hot.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried and he hated to be brought to tears over something as stupid as this, _especially_ in front of Izaya, but he couldn’t stop it.

It wasn’t like he cared. He doubted Izaya cared about anything. If he did he certainly didn’t show it. Maybe this was how he was meant to be all along. He’d never seemed very human, even back when Shizuo had first met him.

“Crying’s not going to fix this Shizu-chan.” His voice was quieter and closer than Shizuo had thought it might be but no less jarring for it.

“Fuck off,” he spat. “I don’t want you here. I never asked for this shit. What the fuck did I ever do to you?”

Izaya laughed hard once and it broke halfway through. It was hard to see straight, but even through the blur in his vision Shizuo could see Izaya looked like shit too. Maybe he hadn’t noticed before, hadn’t really been looking, or maybe his mask had broken off as well. He’d settled onto the floor, leaning back on his hands, legs stretched out, facing the wall to Shizuo’s left so their bodies formed an L. Then Izaya snapped his gaze over. “You think _I_ asked for this? You think I asked to be stuck here, chained to you of all people, hanging around, drug through your boring little life?” He sneered, shaking his head almost violently. “You’re so fucking stupid, Shizuo.”

Shizuo frowned, too worn out to get angry about the insult. He shook his head, trying to figure out what Izaya could possibly be saying. “What are you talking about? You’re not stuck here. You can go wherever you want. You’re a _ghost_.”

Izaya’s glare could cut diamond and it was enough to make Shizuo shove his face back into his hands for the time being. “You don’t know anything.”

“Because you won’t _tell me_ anything,” Shizuo snapped back, looking up again, meeting Izaya head on.

There was a heavy silence and it felt sort of like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Shizuo steeled himself meanwhile. They had to do this. It was shitty and he didn’t want to deal with it any more than Izaya might, but they couldn’t carry on like this.

“This is the worst,” he stated, setting his mouth in a hard line and swiping at his eyes. “These have been the two worst goddamn weeks of my entire life.”

Izaya rolled his eyes. “That’s lovely, Shizu-chan, but I’m not your diary. If it’s pity you want, I’d look elsewhere.”

Shizuo sighed. “I’m just being honest and you need to too or it’s never gonna end.” Izaya made a face and Shizuo snort-laughed in exasperation. “I know you hate making things easy, but there’s no way you don’t hate this more.” It was a risk, but even if he couldn’t see a way out, he’d never find one if he didn’t start walking.

He must have said something right, _finally_ , because Izaya dropped his head down to his chest, collapsed in on himself, his shoulders hunching, looking abruptly much smaller than he came off. He shuddered and Shizuo couldn’t tell if he was crying or shivering.

“Just tell me what you know,” Shizuo insisted, feeling strange being the logical one but unsure how else to continue. He decided he’d pretend to be Celty for the time being. She always knew the right thing to say in situations like this, and even if he wasn’t so good at comforting someone, he was good at being straightforward.

Izaya remained silent for a few long moments and Shizuo almost felt like punching the wall again, but then he released a shaky exhale and straightened back up, righting himself and spinning toward Shizuo. The mask was back in place, but he nodded, forcing on a smile that didn’t look right on his face. “Very well. I suppose I can humor you for now.”

Shizuo bit back his automatic response and tried to refocus. “Why are you here?”

Izaya cocked an eyebrow, true to form. “So profound, Shizu-chan. Do any of us really know why we’re here?”

“You know what I mean,” Shizuo grumbled. “Did you choose to come back?”

“No,” Izaya said, quick, simple for once.

“Are you haunting me on purpose?”

Izaya waved a hand around. “It’s complicated, I suppose.”

Shizuo ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, Izaya. We’re not bartering for a prize here. We’re in this together whether we want to be or not. It’d be a lot quicker if you just told me yourself.”

Another put-upon sigh later, he did. It came out in a rush. He was talking so quickly Shizuo thought he had to have missed some of it, but he did his best to listen rather than being distracted by the shock he felt at hearing some of it. Izaya fell silent when he was done, looking like he didn’t know what to do now that he was finished. He pulled at his fingers. “Did you catch all of that or do I have to repeat myself? I know you can be a little slow on the uptake sometimes.”

Shizuo ignored him. Now that he was finished, he was taking time to wonder at the fact that Izaya was just as stuck as he was. _Why me?_ he thought. A few answers jumped into his mind, but none of them fit quite right and most of them sounded stupid, embarrassing even in his head. He glanced up at the ceiling. Clearly someone up there really didn’t like them.

“I guess we need to figure why it’s me you’re stuck to,” Shizuo muttered mostly to himself.

“Easier said than done,” Izaya commented. “For all we know I could be stuck here forever and there is no answer. Or maybe I have to hang around everyone I ever interacted with for some amount of time before I’m finally allowed to rest in peace.”

Shizuo winced. He still wasn’t used to the idea of Izaya being dead. It was hard to be when he was sitting there in front of him, looking mostly alive, if a little tired, a little pale. He didn’t like thinking about it really, even if he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he was too young to have experienced much death around him quite yet.

“You left pretty suddenly back in high school,” Shizuo pointed out. “There wasn’t something you wanted to say to me that you didn’t get to, something you wanted to do, was there?”

That drew a genuine laugh out of Izaya and it was painfully familiar. Shizuo wished it wasn’t as attractive as it had been the first time he’d heard it, too dark, too sultry. It felt like something that had been dragged out of the shadows of a bedroom and released out into the open, like he shouldn’t be hearing it. “There was a lot I wanted to do to you, Shizuo. It’d be hard to narrow it down.”

Shizuo scowled at his knees, forcing the flush down from his face. He’d forgotten how shameless Izaya could be. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But it's worth a shot, isn’t it?” Izaya was bending his voice soft, tempting in all the ways it shouldn’t have been. “Wouldn’t you like to fuck me again?”

Shizuo didn’t dare look at him. “ _Izaya_ ,” he said, and it was a warning. His arm ached from where he’d sliced it open and Shizuo ran back through the list of things Izaya had done to him in the past week alone to keep his mind off the images that formed terrifyingly quick in his mind, there in an instant, supplemented by the first time.

He hated that there was still part of him that remembered the time before and knew how long it’d been and wanted it anyway, if only as a way to let out his frustrations. But he wasn’t going to allow himself to be talked into it so easily. That was probably just what Izaya wanted. He was laughing again as if to prove his point. “It was just a suggestion. I don’t even know if it would work. You’d probably end up being the only one getting off and that’s no fun.”

He had a point and Shizuo was desperate to move on so snagged onto the topic, and spoke without thinking much about it. “Could I even touch you?”

“Are you thinking out loud or asking permission?” Izaya asked, smirking. Shizuo wished he could say it was because he was in a better mood, but he had no idea if Izaya was putting on a show or not.

“Never mind,” Shizuo said, shaking away the thought.

“No, try,” Izaya said, stretching out his hand and Shizuo could think of a million reasons why that was a bad idea. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff and reaching out would be as good as taking another step forward into empty air. Probably because this was exactly the way it had started last time and Izaya’s words were ringing in his head and all that pent up energy was still pooling in his stomach, noticeable as ever. It’d been a long week if he’d ever had one. He clenched his fingers in close, stayed where he was.

But Izaya had to keep pushing, because he always did. “What, are you scared?” He tilted his chin up, wiggled his fingers. “How embarrassing. Shizu-chan’s scared of ghosts.”

He was. He was fucking terrified, but his arm was moving anyway reaching out. He half expected Izaya to disappear like smoke, or his hand to go right through him, but all that happened was he locked his fingers too-tight around Izaya’s wrist. It felt solid in his hands. His skin was freezing still, almost burning, but the longer Shizuo held on the less he noticed it. Izaya didn’t move at all, almost seemed caught off-guard at first by what had happened, staring down at the point of contact.

“Your hand is warm,” he muttered, and Shizuo didn’t think he meant to say it. He looked genuinely baffled and Shizuo didn’t know why, but he didn’t care. He slackened his grip and again waited for Izaya to float up to the ceiling or slip out of sight, but he didn’t, only sat frozen still.

Shizuo held his breath and slid his hand over Izaya’s, running his thumb up over the ridge of his palm, down along his fingers, one after another, then back up his arm to his shoulder where he held on, leaning forward to manage motion. Izaya continued to let him do as he would. It was so much worse, feeling him real and solid under his fingers, Shizuo thought. This really was the boy he’d known however many months ago. This was really happening and he was at the center of it.

His eyes drifted up and met Izaya’s. He couldn’t interpret his expression well, it was far too complicated, but it was more open and searching than Shizuo thought Izaya would have liked it and it made something like desperation spike in Shizuo’s chest. His hand drifted down to shackle around Izaya’s wrist once more and when he tugged Izaya came easily, falling into his lap.

The room was too quiet, interrupted by a single set of breaths. Izaya’s chest didn’t move and when Shizuo pressed his cheek against it, he couldn’t hear a heartbeat. This was crazy. Shizuo sort of felt like he was falling so he held on tightly to Izaya’s hips and buried his face in the crook of his neck. Izaya dug his fingers back into Shizuo’s hair and pulled and Shizuo was reminded of the previous night. He bit down on Izaya’s neck in sudden retaliation and his teeth sank in but drew no blood.

Izaya huffed a laugh but it kind of sounded like a sob. “Don’t waste your time. You can’t hurt me.”

“Can you feel it?” Shizuo asked.

Izaya tugged on his hair again, forced his head back, looked down at him, calculating, licked his lips. “Yes, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“Then I’m not wasting my time.” That drew another laugh out of Izaya.

Shizuo felt conflicted even as he kept moving his hands, running them up Izaya’s back, trying his best to stay on alert. He didn’t trust Izaya as far as he could throw him, but it was hard to reconcile that logic with the overwhelming need that was doing its best to drown him and, for the most part, succeeding. For the moment, he let curiosity be his guide as he rediscovered Izaya’s body.

He’d grown some, filled out a bit. He’d been scrawny before and he wasn’t much better now, but everything about him was more defined, making it seem intentional. His bones were sharp and Shizuo could feel them more than he knew he should have been able to, although he didn’t know if that had happened before or after Izaya’s passing. He mouthed up to the juncture between Izaya’s jaw and his neck and Izaya tilted his head to give him better access.

“Could you disappear right now?” Shizuo asked while he was there, right by Izaya’s ear. “If you wanted to?”

“If I wanted to,” Izaya repeated, pulling away again and looking down at himself. And then he was fading away, not completely, but enough so that Shizuo’s hands could go through him like he was nothing but air. He jerked back in horror.

“Can you…feel that?” Shizuo asked, completely distracted by that point.

Izaya was faceless again but held his shape for the most part. Shizuo couldn’t see his hand if he put it through Izaya; it just looked like he was sinking it down into shadow. Izaya wasn’t see-through in the least. “Not really,” he said, all teeth. “How’s it feel?”

“Cold,” Shizuo admitted, trying it again, sinking his hand into Izaya’s chest like he was going for his heart. The sensation and sight made his stomach flip. “Like I’m sticking my hand into a freezer.”

Shizuo yanked it out again, looking at it as if it might have gone black itself like from frostbite, but it was still just his hand.

“Do you still want to fuck me like this?” Izaya asked and Shizuo snapped out of whatever haze he’d been in, focused back in on the situation at hand.

Shizuo glared at Izaya as he sank back into himself, black turning to pale as he threw his human disguise back on, because that’s what it was, really. Shizuo had to keep reminding himself of that. “I never said I wanted to in the first place.”

Izaya chuckled, holding Shizuo’s eyes again. “You didn’t, but you _did_ just have your hands on my ass. I can read body language.”

Shizuo growled and knocked his forehead against Izaya’s even though he knew it would only hurt himself because it was familiar in a situation that didn’t feel entirely real. He set his hands back on Izaya’s waist to have somewhere to put them.

“You do right?” Izaya continued, then paused to bite at Shizuo’s jaw and _he_ could definitely feel that. “Sorry, I’m trying to think of a necrophilia joke, but it’s not coming to me right now. Give me some time.”

Shizuo told himself that he kissed him to shut him up. It was a hungry kiss, and it came with a flurry of scrambling hands and gasped breaths on Shizuo’s end. Izaya still tasted like something dangerous but Shizuo was in the mood to be reckless and he drank him in like he’d hadn’t had anything to drink in a week. Izaya rolled his hips against him and Shizuo was hard pressed not to respond. He didn’t know how he felt anymore, only that he wouldn’t mind continuing to kiss Izaya like this because it was simple and a lot easier than trying to reconcile the Izaya he knew with the Izaya before him now, and the fact that this probably wasn’t the right thing to be doing at the moment.

But his chest had ached since he saw Izaya again, distantly more often than not because anger tended to mask everything else, and he thought this was the first thing that was making him feel better.

It was Izaya who pulled back, slipping off of him and out of reach. He laughed as he went, but Shizuo thought it sounded frantic, and though he was inclined to reach up and try to pull him back, frustrated by the loss, he thought it was probably for the best.

“I thought maybe you had at first,” Izaya said, floating back down closer to him. “But you haven’t changed a bit. You still kiss like you’re trying to eat me alive.”

“Doesn’t mean nothing’s changed,” Shizuo pointed out, his skin still buzzing. He didn’t call out his bluff. He was too tired. Too much had happened in too short a time. He didn’t know why Izaya had gotten scared off, but he was glad he had in a way. He reminded himself that this was the man who’d stabbed him with a key just a day ago and spilled drinks all over his friends and himself not an hour earlier. The instinctive curiosity that had set in when he’d begun to touch Izaya was fading away and his head was clearing. Realistically, they weren’t any closer to an answer than they had been half an hour ago.

“Have you had any other ideas besides having sex about how to fix this?” Shizuo asked.

Izaya drifted back down, closer, hovering above Shizuo, stretched out over him. “None that would be half as fun.”

“Izaya.” It was late and dark and he was exhausted and it was making him a bit hysterical, but Shizuo was trying his best to hold it together. It only half worked.

Izaya mirrored his smile and it looked more real than the others Shizuo had seen lately. “Just one. It’s pretty boring, but it’s how a lot of curses are broken in books and movies and so on.”

“Yeah?” Shizuo asked, slumping back up against the wall.

Izaya hummed. “You really can’t think of it? It’s so obvious.”

Shizuo thought he had a good idea, but it was too ridiculous. He wouldn’t dare say it. Izaya would never let him live it down. “I can’t read minds.”

Shrugging lightly, Izaya went on, far too casual for his next words: “I suppose you could always try to fall in love with me.” Shizuo tried not to make a face but he must have failed judging by Izaya’s hysterical laughter. “Please, did you actually think I was serious?”

Sort of. Izaya wasn’t ever serious, except for when he was. Shizuo was doing his best not to think about what he’d said, but he felt like shooting back. “What if I did?”

Izaya quieted down, narrowed his eyes. “I’d think you were the stupidest person I’ve ever met.”

The tension between them that had dissolved before was back somehow, creeping in, breaking apart the strange in-between space they’d created where they talked to each other like real people and not like two cellmates who couldn’t stand the sight of each other, put together against their will, but Shizuo didn’t want it to end. He wouldn’t let it, at least not entirely.

“Guess we better keep thinking then,” Shizuo suggested. “Since we’re going to stop being dicks to each other now—” They hadn’t agreed to anything of the sort but Shizuo made sure his tone was commanding enough to let Izaya know that it wasn’t up for discussion. “—can you promise to stop messing around with my stuff?” Izaya went to open his mouth and Shizuo amended his words immediately. “At least in ways that affect other people? Like Celty?”

Izaya hummed, floating up higher. “What’s in it for me?”

Shizuo sighed, hating the way Izaya couldn’t be direct about anything. It was always back to the same question and as much as he might not want to admit it, Shizuo more or less knew that Izaya had no good answer for it. “What do you want?”

As always, there was a pause, but then, something new: an answer. “Let’s go somewhere else. Somewhere that’s not this boring campus. Into the city. Anywhere.”

Shizuo thought about that. It spelled disaster to him, made him anxious, but it was doable, not half as outrageous as he thought Izaya’s request might be. “Fine. If you swear.”

Izaya lit up like someone had flicked on a light behind his eyes, his face splitting into a smile that looked honest, if a bit manic. “Deal.”

There was a jiggling in the lock then, an indication of Celty coming home. Shizuo jumped to his feet, moved over to the couch, tried to look passably sick. He hadn’t even changed his shirt, which would probably look bad, but there wasn’t much else he could do. Izaya still wasn’t going away either. “Tomorrow,” he insisted. “Take me tomorrow.”

Shizuo clenched his teeth together but nodded. Celty was stepping in then and Izaya was fading away. Shizuo closed his eyes. He was going to have to make the quickest recovery known to man.


	6. Chapter 6

Being touched again felt strange. It was exacerbated by the fact that people hadn’t touched him much when he was living because he hadn’t let most people get that close. Shizuo was an exception and he still was. After not being able to feel heat or cold for two weeks, Shizuo’s hands felt like fire on him, strange and new like he was being touched for the first time and didn’t understand how bodies generated heat. Of course it was only him. Of course. He should have expected as much.

It was overwhelming and intoxicating, like he’d been locked up, undergone sensory deprivation and Shizuo was the first person to pull him out of it. It made it hard to tell whether it was Shizuo’s touch he liked or just touch in general. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d suggested they have sex, but now he wished he hadn’t. It was hard to lock out of his mind completely the images that came flooding in, hard to ignore the memories that rushed to the forefront when he had nothing to do but look at Shizuo’s sleeping form or float around his ceiling for hours on end.

He had no idea if it would work, if it was possible, but it might be something to investigate. It would be something to do if nothing else.

Izaya wasn’t quite sure if he was pleased or not about his apparent reconciliation with Shizuo, if it could be called that. They’d reached something of a truce, he thought, and that was fair. There wasn’t much else _to_ do. Logically, carrying on the way they had wouldn’t be of any benefit to either of them so it would be stupid to continue. Having everything—or everything relevant at least—out in the open would probably be worthwhile if only it would stop Shizuo from asking stupid questions, not that he thought that would ever stop completely.

He was excited to be getting out tomorrow, seeing somewhere other than the monotony of the campus around them. Using their little deal to his advantage wasn’t difficult and it wasn’t like it would put much strain on Shizuo. He felt lighter than he had in some time, like he wasn’t constantly slipping off of something, sinking down, and he told himself that was the only reason why.

Shizuo couldn’t leave well enough alone though, never could. He always said Izaya pushed too far, but he was no better.

It was dark, quiet in Shizuo’s bedroom, the silence interrupted only by Shizuo’s steady breathing and the various creaks of the apartment. Shizuo had convinced his roommate that he was alright somehow when she’d come back, claiming only to have had a headache. She’d nodded, but Izaya knew—and Shizuo probably did as well—that she knew something was going on: she was just too forgiving, too considerate to pry about it quite yet.

Afterward Shizuo had retreated to his room, gotten ready for bed—Izaya hadn’t stopped himself from watching—and fallen right to sleep. Izaya did his best not to be jealous. It wasn’t like he’d been a heavy sleeper when he was alive. He stayed up late into the night often, doing this or that, and had always risen early and easily. Shizuo slept like a rock, unmoving, looking like he might never wake up again. It was the one time that Izaya felt like the most alive person in the room.

But for some reason, around two in the morning, Shizuo awoke, the pattern of his breathing dissolving before it became autonomous once more. “Izaya?” he called and Izaya pondered whether or not to answer.

“Yes?” Izaya replied, not bothering to show himself quite yet. “What happened? Did you have a bad dream?”

Shizuo ignored the jab. “You’re in here?”

“Where else would I be?” Izaya asked, sighing his words. Sleepy Shizuo was no fun. He was too out of it to react in any interesting way.

“Were you asleep?”

Izaya wished he’d just go back to sleep and leave him alone. He didn’t need to look at the softness of his eyes, still full of sleep, half-lidded by drooping eyelids, didn’t need to hear his quiet, low voice, coming from across the room but feeling like it was being whispered in his ear. “I don’t sleep.”

“You don’t?” Shizuo’s eyebrows drew together. “What do you do all night?”

Izaya sighed again. He didn’t _need_ to breathe, but he tended to anyway, out of habit, and so he was able to speak and express his irritation properly. “Did you wake up for a reason or just to bother me?”

“Do you always stay in here at night?” Shizuo asked, his words slurring together, halfway back to sleep already.

Izaya let his teeth show, hoping it would put Shizuo off. He might be fine to jump from the antagonistic relationship they’d had for two weeks to whatever this was, but he wasn’t. They weren’t friends. They weren’t anything. Something scratching around in the inside of his chest was urging him to leave, get away from this. “Of course. I always watch you sleep,” he lied.

That at least drew out a frown. “Don’t be creepy.”

“Why not? I’m not a person anymore, Shizu-chan. I’m dead, remember? I think I’ve earned the right. Everything about this is creepy. You shouldn’t even be sleeping. People in horror movies don’t sleep.”

“We’re not in a horror movie,” he grumbled, surprisingly logical for being practically unconscious. “This is real life. You’re still you. You’re not a monster just because you’re a ghost.”

Izaya didn’t know how to feel, hearing that word directed toward him. He’d always thought it was the other way around, that Shizuo was something other than human, but now he wasn’t sure what to think. “It’s not a matter of being dead or not,” he pointed out.

Shizuo grunted a noncommittal noise and Izaya tried not to laugh. For all his paranoia and defensiveness, Shizuo was the most naïve person he’d ever met. He’d never understand it, he didn’t think. Izaya thought he might keep talking, but the pause kept stretching out longer and longer until he realized he’d fallen back to sleep.

Izaya rolled his eyes. Apparently Shizuo wouldn’t stand for being anything other than the sole subject of Izaya’s thoughts even in his sleep. _How annoying_.

His own words from earlier were still ringing in his head and he cursed himself. It was supposed to be a taunt, but then Shizuo had looked at him the way he had, like he was trying to understand, to make the idea work in his head, like it might hold actual weight. Like it was that easy.

Izaya shook the image from his mind again, trying to block it out for good this time. He refused to think about it any longer. He had hours left until dawn; it wasn’t like he could do anything productive since he’d promised Shizuo he’d be good—although he was considering how long he had to adhere to that pact since it had been fairly vague and he thought Shizuo might need to be taught a lesson about trusting too easily—but there were several other, less-agonizing ways to waste the time away.

The one he chose was to count Shizuo’s breaths and try to calculate how many more there would be until he woke up.

Shizuo made good on his promise. (Izaya thought he might spend some time doing homework before they left, but after a couple weeks of observation it wasn’t too surprising when he didn’t bother. Shizuo wasn’t the most studious student. He made more of an effort than he had in high school from what Izaya could tell, but he worked better in short bursts than long sessions.) They were off, walking to the nearest train station through the icy haze of the morning air, and were in the city by the time it was still waking up.

Already Izaya felt better. Urban life had always fit him best. He felt most comfortable when he was in a crowd, surrounded by blinking lights and moving vehicles, standing right on the pulse of the city. He immediately felt some of the restlessness that had been gathering in his limbs and chest melt away, absorbed and negated by the frantic movement all around them: people rushing to work, ducking in and out of buildings, running to catch taxis or the train, stumbling around aimlessly. The sun had broken through the thin layer of clouds above and was dripping down, making the whole city glow like frosted glass. The air was brisk, and the day was young, and Izaya felt the most alive he had in even longer than the time he’d been dead.

“Happy?” Shizuo asked, glancing up at him. He wasn’t bothering with any shadows today. He had better things to do.

Izaya tilted to look down at Shizuo from where he’d been hovering up above his head to have a better view. The other man looked tired, not much of an early riser as was evident by the grey smudges under his eyes, and cold as he pulled his coat tighter around himself. His eyes were cautious, guarded, particularly compared to the outpouring of emotion Izaya had witnessed the night previous. He offered him a pleased smile. “Of course.”

They were standing off to the side, up along one of the buildings facing a large intersection. Between the constant noise of the city and the pure apathy of the people in it, no one seemed to care that Shizuo appeared to be talking to himself. “What are we going to do here all day?” Shizuo asked.

Izaya didn’t bother pointing out that Shizuo still had ultimate control over where they went. He was happy to take the power if it was going to be handed to him. “I have a few ideas.”

Shizuo’s eyebrows drew down and he tensed like he was getting ready for a fight and Izaya laughed. There was more than one way to mess with him after all and this one, so far, was requiring much less effort on his part.

Izaya bid Shizuo to simply walk around for a while, circle the city. Shizuo gave him a few strange looks as they went as if he was expecting a piano to fall from above onto his head—which was probably warranted—but Izaya paid him little mind. The point of all this was to get his mind off the other man for a little while. He’d always loved to people-watch, especially in big cities, and he was going to use this day to his advantage as much as possible since he was no longer autonomous and as such couldn’t go whenever the urge struck him.

It felt like he’d been locked in a claustrophobic box for too long and it had finally been opened. Sometimes he stayed within sight, but more often he wandered off, looking around, exploring aimlessly. There wasn’t a real point to it, but there didn’t have to be. It was a simple pleasure and one he’d missed dearly as of late. Shizuo’s tiny college campus was nothing compared to this trove of possibilities.

The morning passed on and eventually Shizuo started to complain about being cold and hungry. “What’s the point of this anyway?” he grumbled, having stopped for a light on a less-populated street. “You’re making me think that you figured a way out of this and are using me to map out an escape route.”

Izaya drifted back closer to him, dropping down onto his feet and taking the lead when the light turned green. Shizuo followed after him and it sent a thrill through Izaya, illusion or otherwise. “Would that be so bad? I’d leave you alone, you could carry on doing whatever it was you were doing before I came along.” He didn’t feel like explaining this to Shizuo. He liked to keep some things for himself. He was selfish in that way and he felt no desire to change that.

“It would mean you lied to me yesterday,” Shizuo pointed out, still trailing after Izaya who was leading them toward a nearby café. He thought Shizuo might have earned a reward. He’d heard positive reinforcement worked well with pets anyway.

“So what if I did?” Izaya shrugged. “What difference would it make in the grand scheme of things?”

Shizuo stopped still where he was, glaring at Izaya who paused as well. “Did you?” he demanded, already halfway to outraged.

Izaya rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t take everything so personally.”

He jumped back a step when Shizuo made a grab for him instinctively, laughing. “ _Did you?_ ”

Izaya rolled his eyes, reaching up to drag his nails down along Shizuo’s jaw. “Believe me, Shizu-chan. I wouldn’t still be here if I had.” Shizuo moved to slap his hand away and Izaya let it go through him, holding his gaze relentlessly. It looked like it would be up to him to remind Shizuo of the reality of their situation as it truly was, not how he wanted it to be.

This wasn’t a reunion. This was purgatory.

Shizuo ground his teeth and walked right through Izaya, pushed open the door of the café like he wasn’t even there. Izaya frowned, irked for some reason, but refused to let it show. He stood waiting by a table next to a window while Shizuo ordered. The place was fairly crowded, bustling from the lunch rush and he moved twice out of the way of people who couldn’t see him before Shizuo finally showed back up carrying a tray of food. In spite of their earlier spiff he sat down where Izaya indicated when he caught sight of him and began eating. The color was already returning to his cheeks.

“You don’t _want_ me to stay, do you?” Izaya prodded after a few moments of silence. He thought if his heart was still beating it would speed up then. He bent the words sarcastic, but he was a bit concerned about the answer. “I was joking yesterday, remember?”

Shizuo ran his eyes over him, scrutinizing, but Izaya didn’t know what he was looking for, what he thought he’d find. It was nerve-wracking enough that the answer hadn’t been immediate. “Of course I don’t,” he eventually replied, going back to his food. “It’s not like you want to stay here anyway. You’ve made that pretty damn clear.”

Izaya scowled, not liking how accusatory that was. “Would you want to, if you were in my position?”

“No,” Shizuo growled, his eyes resting heavy on him again. “But I didn’t do this to you, so I don’t get why you’re taking it out on me.”

Izaya scoffed, not wanting to be the first one to look away. “What else is there to do?”

Shizuo set his cup down on the table too hard and Izaya would have jumped if he hadn’t been so tense already. “You could try to figure this out. You could try to make things better instead of making them worse. It’s not like it’s doing you any good. You’ve been fucking around all week, and what’s it gotten you? I might look like shit, but you’re not any better.”

Shizuo had been keeping his voice low, blending it in among the sound around them, but he was still beginning to draw some attention from people nearby in spite of himself and he must have noticed because he fell silent, clenching his jaw. Izaya tilted his chin up, not sure when Shizuo had decided to climb up on his little pedestal but perfectly happy to pull him right back down. “Please. It just irritates you that you can’t stop me.”

Shizuo’s face flushed red and it wasn’t from the heat. Izaya watched, rapt, feeling like he’d been tossed several years back to high school when it was easy to set Shizuo off as it was to set off the alarm on a fancy car. A muscle twitched in his jaw and he gripped at the table hard, but ultimately contained himself. Izaya forced his expression to remain smooth, contented himself with the minor victory even if it hadn’t reaped any additional benefits.

Shizuo finished his meal in silence and Izaya watched out the window, unable to enjoy it as much as he had been before. When he was done, Shizuo stood and started walking and Izaya followed after him, an inversion of the earlier situation. Once outside, Shizuo continued walking with purpose, rounded the end of the block and took them right down an empty alley.

Izaya frowned, wondering what he was up to when Shizuo beckoned him down. He went, more out of curiosity than anything else and immediately experienced the repercussions of his carelessness. Shizuo grabbed the edges of his shirt and threw him up against one of the walls. Izaya leaned into it, fell like he’d been meaning to all along, collapsing back instead of fighting the momentum and laughed at himself mostly.

Shizuo’s eyes were dark, his gaze focused, and Izaya felt himself shiver for the first time that day. “Reconsidering that offer Shizu—”

“Shut up,” Shizuo snapped. “Stop talking and listen, you piece of shit.” 

Izaya coughed out another laugh, too-loud in the empty space. He knocked his head back, letting the wall support his whole weight and spread his arms out. “I’m all ears.”

“I know exactly how you feel right now,” Shizuo began and an immediate flare of indignation washed over Izaya. Shizuo went on before he could object however. “No, shut _up_ , Izaya. I don’t mean how it feels to be dead. I mean how to feels to be _angry_. How it feels to be so fucking furious you feel like you want to set the whole goddamn world on fire, starting with yourself, so mad it feels like you’re being burned alive from the inside and unable to do anything to stop it.” He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched and unclenched his fingers into fists and anything Izaya was going to say died on his tongue. Shizuo breathed out through his nose and snapped his eyes back up. “It’s the worst thing in the world, but giving in to it isn’t going to help shit. You might think I’m pretty dumb, but I know that much. You can lash out at me as much as you want, but I’m telling you right now, it’s not going to make anything better. It’s a quick-fix solution for a long-term problem and it’s not gonna stick. You’re _not_ going to feel better. You’re not.” He shook his head and turned away again, pacing up the length of the alley, apparently finished with his speech.

Izaya watched him go, traced over the tense outline of his shoulders with his eyes, letting his words sink in. He felt the need to take a meaningless breath after that. He did his best to think through it, figuring Shizuo probably had a point, or several even, that he might be right even in spite of how unsettling it was to be seen through so easily, but it was difficult when an inexplicable heat was rushing through him. He supposed he might have seen it coming: he’d always had a thing for Shizuo’s confident side.

“Wow,” he murmured and Shizuo spun to face him, his expression a challenge, daring him to go on. He took it gladly and was rewarded by Shizuo’s slow approach back toward him, steady, predatory. He didn’t make any move to get away. “So philosophical. Were you coming up with that all of lunch?”

Shizuo growled. “Did you actually hear what I said?”

“Of course I did,” Izaya said, feigning hurt. “You told me to listen, didn’t you?”

Shizuo shoved up against him in place of a reply, forcing him up against the hard surface of the wall with his body, crowding close, his hot breath as much of shock as it had been the night previous.

“It was a nice speech, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, baring his neck, pleased when it drew the attention of Shizuo’s mouth and teeth almost immediately. “But I hardly think you’re the best example to be following.” Shizuo bit at his neck harder in response, proving his point well. “Besides, it’s not like there aren’t healthy ways to release your frustrations. Bottling it up’s no good either.”

Shizuo pulled back and gave him another calculating look. There was still a darkness to his eyes, threatening in the best way. “Just because both of us are angry about this doesn’t mean we should…” He trailed off and Izaya hated how endearing it was.

“Why not? What could it hurt? You’re telling me to deal with my anger constructively, aren’t you? Might as well make the best of a bad situation,” Izaya continued, dropping his voice down lower, because he wasn’t about to back off now. Not when he’d been thinking about it all night—or, really, since the moment he’d seen Shizuo again. It wasn’t like he’d lost his memories after death, and some, particularly sensory ones, tended to stand out. This wasn’t exactly what he’d had planned for the day, and he still had no idea if it would even work or not, but he was a strong believer in striking while the iron’s hot. “You never know. Might as well pick back up where we left off.” He’d always heard that when you were looking for something you were supposed to start off where you’d seen it last and last time he’d seen Shizuo, he’d been a lovely sight between his legs.

Shizuo kissed him like he’d meant to punch him but he’d moved his mouth instead of his hand. It was messy and would have been bruising if the only thing Izaya could feel wasn’t the burning heat of it, if he wasn’t distracted by the ache in his abdomen and the way one of Shizuo’s hands was gripping hard at his hip. “That’s not good enough,” Shizuo growled against his lips. “One good day isn’t enough for me to start trusting you.”

“So?” Izaya asked, nipping back, maintaining their proximity. Shizuo was right about him wanting to light himself on fire, just not for the same reason that Shizuo might think. Izaya wanted to drown himself in the sensation that apparently only Shizuo could give to him, and he knew how to make it happen. Because Shizuo wanted this too, whether he wanted to admit or not, and Izaya had had enough of wasting time. Dying young did that to you, he thought, made you impatient, or at least more focused on using your time as efficiently as possible because who really knew how much you had left? “You didn’t trust me the first time.”

“That was a mistake,” Shizuo claimed, trying to pull back. Izaya held him in place, could because he wasn’t trying much.

Izaya frowned. “So you regret it?” He rolled up, pushing himself against Shizuo, nudging his thigh up between his legs. “Really?”

“You don’t?” Shizuo asked, grinding down against him nonetheless. “Why’d you stop yesterday then?”

Because it had been too much. Izaya hadn’t known how it would feel, hadn’t known that it _could_ feel like anything. He’d become overwhelmed all too quickly, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Shizuo. “I thought it’d be better if we had a little time to think about it. Besides, the last thing I’d want to do would be to take advantage of Shizu-chan at his most vulnerable. But judging by your little speech I’d say you’re clear-headed enough now.”

Shizuo bit at his collarbone, sinking in hard, and something told Izaya he didn’t quite believe him.

He sighed, tired of talking it out. “I’ll make it simple for you,” Izaya murmured, pressing his mouth under Shizuo’s ear. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, doesn’t have to serve some greater purpose. Fine if you don’t want to do it to let out some frustration. Fine if you don’t want to because it might fix this. There’s only one reason you should.” He paused to pull at Shizuo’s earlobe with his teeth. “Do it because _you_ want to. I know you do.” Izaya rubbed at Shizuo with his thigh again as proof and the other man keened quietly. “Do it because I _want_ you to fuck me again, Shizuo.”

Shizuo crashed their mouths together again, and Izaya could all but taste his desire and desperation, and he knew then that he’d finally won.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may need your Suspension of Disbelief Goggles for this one, folks ;)

The ride back seemed to take hours even if it was only ten minutes tops. Izaya stood right on top of him and kept kissing Shizuo’s neck and rubbing up against him since no one else could see. Shizuo pushed his way off the train first and all but ran back to the apartment. Izaya laughed, but he was keeping pace and that was good enough for him at the moment.

Shizuo knew it was stupid. He knew how Izaya worked, how he could talk anyone into anything even if he had to lie through his teeth every step of the way, hated feeling like he was being played, but even he couldn’t argue back against some of the points he’d made. It’d been in the background of his thoughts since the guy had identified himself, and he wasn’t sure he could say for certain that he would have stopped last night if Izaya hadn’t pulled back. All pointing out the tension between them had done was make it that much worse, and there really were worse outlets.

He thought it had to be a double-edged sword, that it would come back to bite him somehow, but his mind was too hazy at the moment, too stuffed full of heat to think of how. Shizuo knew this was exactly how it’d happened the first time, but there was something about Izaya’s persistence and about how goddamn willing he was that made it impossible to resist.

He’d have to deal with the consequences later, but he didn’t see how it could get much worse than how it’d been before. The good thing about hitting bottom was that there was nowhere to go but up.

Shizuo didn’t really know if that’s what they were doing at the moment, but it was better than wandering around the city freezing his ass off for another three hours.

Once inside Shizuo was tempted to push Izaya right up against the front door, but he had enough common sense left to check and make sure Celty wasn’t around first and maybe grab a couple of things that might be useful. She could be quiet when she wanted to and he didn’t really want her walking in on him having sex with what would look like the empty air. Fortunately, she wasn’t around.

“Aren’t you ready yet?” Izaya complained, leaning up against the wall next to Shizuo’s room. Shizuo swore he did it just to show himself off, stretching his arms over his head and letting his head fall back. Shizuo hadn’t left any mark on his neck but that didn’t make him want to try again any less.

Shizuo picked him up by pushing up under his thighs and shoved him up against the wall, reclaiming his lips so he wouldn’t be able to say anything else taunting. Izaya was moving against him almost immediately. It felt like trying to hold onto a live flame but Shizuo did his best, pushing his tongue into Izaya’s mouth meanwhile. He hadn’t known what to expect but he just tasted cool and clean like the rest of his skin.

Izaya pushed his ass down against him when he pressed up, eager, and kept making little noises into his mouth that were only making him harder. He felt strung tight, like he might snap at any second, more desperate than he thought he’d ever been before. He felt suffocated by his own need and Izaya didn’t seem much better off. Shizuo still couldn’t feel a heartbeat but he was panting into Shizuo’s mouth, clawing at his back, digging his fingers into his shirt.

Shizuo moved to slide his hands up Izaya’s shirt, wincing at the icy feel of his skin, but Izaya batted him off, grinding down harder. “Not now,” he muttered. “I can’t wait any longer.”

The honesty in his voice was raw and cutting and Shizuo stole another hungry kiss from him because of it before he set him down and started to work on getting their pants undone. His fingers were clumsy, shaking from adrenaline, so Izaya pushed him aside again, working quickly to undo them, throwing them off to the side once they were off. Shizuo did the same, frantic to be done with the seemingly time-consuming task, but not before he pulled the lotion out of his pocket. He didn’t exactly have lube lying around so it was going to have to work.

Shizuo dropped down to his knees to kiss and rub at Izaya’s thighs briefly, trying to urge some heat into them. He couldn’t tell if it was his imagination or not, but it did seem to be working some. Izaya threaded his fingers back into his hair and sighed, spreading his legs slightly for Shizuo without prior prompting. The heat swirling around within him had come on so suddenly and completely that it was making Shizuo dizzy, making his hands move without him really thinking about it, but when he pulled Izaya’s boxers down his thoughts, detached as they were, came to a grinding halt and he stopped what he was doing.

Izaya looked down, an offended curve to his lips, but he soon caught sight of the source of the issue as well.

“Izaya,” Shizuo said carefully, standing back up on shaky legs. “You’re not hard.” He swallowed, feeling stupid immediately after for pointing out the obvious, but he didn’t know what else to do. Panic flashed through him momentarily. “Can you feel any of this?”

The look Izaya gave him was cutting. “Of course I can,” Izaya snapped. “You think I was moaning like that for my own amusement?” He looked down at himself again and shrugged. “I thought this might happen. It’s not like my blood’s flowing right now.” He seemed to catch Shizuo’s worried look and rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, Shizu-chan. You’re not taking advantage of me. You think I’d let you do this if I wasn’t getting something out of it? I’m aroused, just not…visibly so.”

Shizuo wasn’t sure that was entirely true. Izaya wasn’t flushed, sure, but his pupils were blown wide, his hair was mussed, his breaths short. Still, Shizuo frowned, not feeling like that was really fair. “Can I…?” He didn’t know why he was getting cold feet now of all times, but he thought it had to do with the way the reality of the situation kept hitting him over and over again like he was repeatedly dipping his hand into boiling water to check if it was hot.

Izaya laughed at him easily. “You can try if you want. Don’t be disappointed if nothing happens.”

Shizuo nodded and reached out to grab hold of Izaya, rubbing over his limp cock with his fingers. Izaya hissed and pressed his face into Shizuo’s shoulder hard, encouraging him to stroke up again and again since, even if it wasn’t making a difference, it must still feel alright. It wasn’t doing much at first and Shizuo was inclined to let it be—he knew both of them were getting impatient, could feel the way Izaya’s teeth were scoring along the skin of his neck—but then, as with his efforts to warm up Izaya’s skin, given time, it did seem to be helping.

Shizuo rubbed right at the head of his swelling cock and reached to take one of Izaya’s hands down to feel too. Izaya’s breath caught in his throat and he snagged Shizuo’s eyes. There was something surprised and even impressed there, and it made Shizuo want him that much more. It was something of a frenzy from there on out, mindless and rushed as both of them hurried the other along.

Izaya tried to slap the lotion out of Shizuo’s hand when he saw it with a breathless, “Don’t bother, you can’t physically hurt me,” but Shizuo persisted. If he could make him feel good there was no reason he couldn’t make him hurt too. Izaya protested, but stopped complaining when Shizuo had a finger inside of him.

The déjà vu was hitting him physically by then as he flashed back to the first time they’d done this. Shizuo would have liked to think he was better this time around, more composed, better with his fingers as he pushed one in after the other, coaxing Izaya open—that wasn’t half as difficult as it had been the first time. Izaya spread his legs wide without him asking and loosened up easily, shoving back like he wanted more—but he wasn’t so sure it was true. It didn’t matter though: it got the job done and sooner than he might have otherwise he was pulling his fingers free from the grip of Izaya’s body and slicking himself up.

Izaya watched, arching up off the wall toward him while he waited, shifting his weight on his legs and reaching out to grab on to him before he was done, lifting a leg up and pushing him inside himself. Shizuo groaned embarrassingly loud when he did, surging forward automatically to take Izaya’s weight back into his arms and pushing much deeper because of it. Izaya whined back and locked his legs around Shizuo’s waist as he started pushing in and out of him, not bothering with a proper build-up but starting off quick and hard. Izaya was jolted again and again by the force of his thrusts but he was saying Shizuo’s name and urging him on, _faster_ , _harder_ , slipping his hands up the back of his shirt, the cold of them searing as always.

Shizuo leaned down to suck at the hollow of Izaya's neck, using the hand that wasn’t braced at Izaya’s hip to wrap back around Izaya’s cock, rubbing and squeezing it back into a state of higher arousal than before, and felt himself lose track of everything except the man in his arms, the noises he was making, how indescribable it felt to be inside him like this. Shizuo thought Izaya looked better than he had since he’d seen him again, blissed out and ethereal before him, still trying to spread himself out further as if to allow Shizuo in deeper.

Izaya collapsed almost completely in his arms toward the end, just pressing his face into Shizuo’s shoulder and whispering little affirmations that went straight to Shizuo’s cock, urging him to move faster, to keep up with the fast pace he’d set, pushing in and out roughly. Shizuo ended up coming first, unable to stop himself any longer, moaning “ _Izaya_ ” into his neck, stuttering to a halt and shaking hard from the force of it. Izaya clenched spasmodically around him as he came, whining his complaints wordlessly and squirming around in his arms. Shizuo caught on and forced himself to drag together what brain power he had left over as he made a last ditch effort to jerk Izaya off.

Fortunately, he didn’t need much more. He didn’t ejaculate, but Shizuo could tell when he came: he jerked hard, almost throwing them off balance and tossed his head back, shuddering in Shizuo’s arms, mouth open, hips pushing up into his hand. Shizuo stroked him through it, waiting until Izaya stilled entirely to stop. Then, with as much grace as he could, he dropped down to the floor, taking Izaya with him, leaving the two of them in a panting heap.

Shizuo thought he could probably move if he had to, but he felt no urge to and had no energy left to spare. Besides, if he moved, he’d have to let go of Izaya which he wasn’t really in the mood for either. Part of him wanted this peaceful silence between them to go on forever, but this was Izaya he was dealing with and the other was sitting up, more alert than he should have been, far too soon for Shizuo’s taste. He knew now that it was over that they were going to have to face the consequences, whatever they might be, and he wasn’t ready for that yet he didn’t think.

“Well,” Izaya said, making a show of looking himself over. He looked a little ridiculous now in just his long-sleeved black shirt and nothing else. “Considering I’m still here and I don’t feel particularly different, I think we might have to look for another solution.”

Shizuo forced himself to refocus and nod, even if it was only for show. Izaya was fixing his hair, straightening out his shirt, but when their eyes met he offered him a smirk that made Shizuo’s dick twitch fruitlessly again. He huffed at himself for being so weak and tried to shake it off. The questions were back, flowing into his head as the reality that it was probably three in the afternoon at the latest and he needed to get up and get dressed before Celty came back was crashing down on him.

Shizuo thought he had to ask now though, or he wouldn’t be able to bring it up again. “How come you only got hard when I—I mean—” He cut off, scowling to fend off the embarrassment because Izaya was laughing, real and full, and he was realizing how dangerous what they’d just done was.

“It’s not important,” Izaya finally said, flippant as ever, pushing off his chest so he was in the air again, moving to pick up his clothes. “You shouldn’t worry about it. I think I might need to use your shower now though.” He shot Shizuo a look that made him feel mildly guilty, but he doubted they could catch anything from each other since Izaya was…how he was, so it didn’t last for long.

“Go ahead,” Shizuo said, suddenly wanting to be alone. “But if Celty comes home you gotta stop.”

“I’ll be quick,” Izaya said, waving a hand and disappearing into the bathroom. Shizuo shut the door behind him since he hadn’t bothered, although he could go through walls so Shizuo thought he must not think about them much anymore.

The water turned on and Shizuo redressed, going to sit on the couch and put his head in his hands.

They were walking a fine line. If he couldn’t tell before, he certainly knew it now. Because the fact was, Izaya wasn’t real. Or he was, but not in a way that anyone else could see or understand. The problem was it was so easy to forget that he wasn’t the same person Shizuo had known in high school. It was so easy to forget what had happened, and that to the majority of the world, he wasn’t there. He didn’t exist.

Izaya wasn’t any better at supervising it either, since he’d incited this whole thing, and it was making Shizuo worried. He had to get it into his head and keep it there, but it was so hard when Izaya could seem so real, so present, so human, even if he wasn’t, and it didn’t help that Shizuo, in spite of himself, knew it was so much easier to forget, to pretend otherwise. He didn’t understand how the rules of this worked, didn’t know why they were so blurry, but he had a feeling they were ultimately going to be his downfall.

Because Izaya in high school had been an asshole, a punk, a little shit who pissed Shizuo off, and that was no different now. However, he was also enigmatic, and intelligent, and attractive, and strangely captivating in spite of it all, and Shizuo knew, had come to terms with the fact that his feelings for Izaya back then had probably been masking something much more terrifying and much more vulnerable. He’d hated him in part because of the way he made him feel, and when he left it had been something of a relief because it meant Shizuo didn’t have to deal with it.

At least, that’s what he’d thought at the time.

Now those old feelings he should have banished the second they started to bloom were knocking on his door—like Izaya had said, skeletons in his closet—and he didn’t know what the hell to do about it. They couldn’t do this again; Shizuo knew that much. They were just fooling themselves into believing something that wasn’t true, or, at the very least, Shizuo was leading himself on. He had no idea how much Izaya knew, but he dreaded the day he’d look right through him and see what was really going on. It would happen eventually; he was too smart for it not to.

It had been easy when Izaya was a menace, a dark shadow in the back of his head that made his days that much worse and messed with his friends while it was at it, but now when Shizuo could see his face, hear him laugh, follow his eyes around the city, jumping from person to person for reasons Shizuo probably would never understand… He knew it could easily become too much, and it would be hell to keep up the façade, but he was going to have to, for both of their sakes.

He could still remember Izaya laughing in his face. _You could always try to fall in love with me_.

Shizuo shook himself. This wasn’t real. They’d fucked and that was it. It was like Izaya had said, stress relief. He needed to start thinking about how to fix this before it got any worse. Izaya wanted to leave and he knew that was for the best.

 _He’s dead_ , he thought to himself. _He’s really gone_.

It was still hard to believe when he felt drips on his head and there was Izaya, leaning over, shaking the moisture from his hair onto Shizuo, still wet from the shower. At least he was dressed again, but the only other noticeable thing about him that was off was his constant hovering and floating. Shizuo tried to focus on that and not on how easy it would be to pull him down on top of him and kiss him again. He looked younger with his hair stuck down, contrasting starkly with the pale of his skin.

“Quick enough for you?” he asked.

Shizuo stood up for something to do so he’d stop staring. “I’m gonna shower now. Remember what you promised about Celty.”

Izaya sighed, floating up, so he was laid out in mid-air. Shizuo forcibly did not think about how that could be useful. “Don’t worry. I won’t mess around with your little friend anymore.” There seemed like there was an “if” to that sentence but it never came.

Shizuo thought he could feel some new tension between them which was probably to be expected although that didn’t make it any more desirable. He thought it illustrated quite well the problem with having what, in any other situation, would be marked as a one-night stand with someone you couldn’t physically get away from. What they’d done hadn’t really resolved any of the issues that had come up earlier in the day either, of course.

He could feel his own words being thrown back in his face: a quick fix for a long-term problem.

The day went on however, and Izaya, for some reason, decided to fall eerily silent when Celty arrived home soon after Shizuo got out of the shower. It was a relief, but weirdly menacing and sort of infuriating at the same time. Celty asked him about his trip, complained about homework, making a show of acting like everything was normal. Shizuo knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid that talk forever—more than anything he regretted telling her about this at all during the first week it had begun, but he hadn’t known at the time that it would grow to be so incredibly complicated and strange—but Celty was smart and kind enough, knew him well enough to give him some space first, give him the option to come to her first, and maybe, he thought that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He and Izaya could probably both do with some therapy.

They didn’t speak again, Shizuo didn’t even see Izaya until that night in his room when he was already half asleep.

“Was it better than the first time?” he asked, almost making Shizuo jump.

Instead, he sighed, rolling over so he could shove his face into his pillow. “Shut up, Izaya.” He might not have to sleep—something Shizuo couldn’t even begin to imagine—but Shizuo did and he was still exhausted. Dealing with Izaya constantly was wearing him out something horrible and he doubted it was going to get better any time soon.

“We’re not going to just _not_ talk about it,” Izaya pointed out, sounding closer than before. “ _I_ thought it was better. You were better. And bigger.” There was a hand on his waist but it was gone before he could slap it off, followed in its retreat by a brief shower of laughter. “Have you been practicing since you last saw me? Should I be jealous?”

“Stop it,” Shizuo snapped, forcing down the embarrassment he felt rising in his chest. “Did you have a point or not?”

“It was just a question, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo dug his fingers harder into the mattress. “Doesn’t matter,” he forced out, gruff and harsher than he’d meant it to be. “It was quick and short and now it’s over. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

Izaya hummed but didn’t reply otherwise. That almost made it worse somehow, but at least Shizuo, after some tossing and turning, did eventually get to sleep.

~

The next few days were something of an adjustment period, at least in Shizuo’s eyes. He could tell Izaya was as restless as he’d been before, but he was containing it better. He’d make a comment on things that were happening now and again. His favorite non-destructive activity was pointing out mistakes in the work Shizuo was doing. Shizuo did his best to pretend like he only meant well and fixed them, even when he knew that wasn’t the case.

For his part, Shizuo did his best to carry on life while also working on fitting Izaya into it. It was a difficult thing, smashing the two worlds together, trying to make them stick and making sure nothing overlapped too much. There were times when Izaya would start speaking when they were around other people and then get annoyed when Shizuo didn’t respond, but he didn’t know what to tell him. He was going to get more than weird looks if he started looking like he was talking to himself.

In spite of himself, Shizuo took to sitting in more secluded areas, studying where there was no one else around, taking less populated routes to get around. The fact that it was almost winter was on their side too, since most people were opting for not freezing their asses off outside and staying in as much as possible. It still didn’t always help.

Izaya had been particularly pissy one day when Shizuo decided he couldn’t hold it in any longer or he would go crazy. Arguing would be better than sitting around saying everything other than what needed to be said. “They can’t see you, right?” he demanded. He’d asked before, he knew, and had gotten fuck all for an answer. Still, based on observation, Shizuo had begun to assume on his own that they couldn’t. “The other people.”

Izaya raised an eyebrow at him, twisting around in mid-air. “Not unless everyone else on this campus has trained themselves to ignore it when they see a fully-formed figure walking around on top of their professor’s desk mid-lecture.”

Shizuo ground his teeth together. He hated it when Izaya did that. He had a hard enough time paying attention in class as it was. “Then why do you keep getting so pissed off when I have to act like you’re not there around other people?”

That gave Izaya pause which usually meant Shizuo was on to something. He recovered quickly though. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. After your little speech last weekend I’ve let go of all anger completely.” He wasn’t meeting Shizuo eyes, looking away as if there was something really interesting in the middle of the empty quad they were in that he couldn’t see.

“I’m being serious,” Shizuo said, keeping his voice steady, grim. “You know why I can’t do that.”

“Well, you _could_.”

“If I want everyone to think I’m crazy!” Shizuo burst out, wishing more than anything he could turn Izaya and make him look at him.

Izaya did turn, but only so Shizuo could see him roll his eyes. “I was just kidding. You still can’t take a joke.”

“But you weren’t,” Shizuo insisted and he could no longer feel how cold it was outside for the heat burning up under his skin. “I’m not that stupid, no matter what you think. I see the face you make when it happens.”

Izaya scoffed, finally turning fully to face him. His eyes looked like fire but everything else about them was deadly cold. “I guess you’re seeing things after all, Shizu-chan. Don’t try to tell me what you think I feel. It’s just embarrassing for both of us.”

Shizuo wanted to launch himself at Izaya, bring them both crashing down, but he knew, even in the heat of the moment, that that was a terrible idea. “This is never going to get better if you act like this.” Izaya’s closed-off, beat-around-the-bush style of communication was exacerbating the problem, Shizuo had known that from the start and he felt like he’d told the other man that several times already, but he couldn’t seem to get it through his head. Shizuo was sick of there being no progress. Even if it had only been a few days since they last actually talked, it felt like an eternity.

“That’s the _point_ , Shizuo,” Izaya hissed. “It doesn’t _get_ better. It can’t. It’s been over two weeks and how much closer are we to figuring anything out?”

Shizuo couldn’t accept that. “You don’t really think that. What about last weekend, huh? You were so convinced that was going to fix everything.”

Shizuo had kept waiting for Izaya’s face to twist, for him to offer anything but a blank mask and it finally did then. He slammed his hands down hard on the table Shizuo had been sitting at and glowered at him. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I knew it wasn’t going to fix anything. I’m not that naïve. I only said that so you’d get over that stupid morality streak of yours. And you can lie to yourself all you want, but it was _by far_ the most enjoyable part of my time here thus far.”

The anger that had been ballooning in Shizuo chest deflated, cut by the sharp edge of pain showing through Izaya’s voice. The other man seemed to notice it too, pulling back, squeezing his eyes closed, clenching his jaw as if he was trying to physically pull himself back together. Shizuo had to look away. He couldn’t stand to see him like that. When he was younger he’d wanted to break Izaya like that so badly, had wanted to make him crack, see what was underneath the act, and now that it was happening before him, because of him, he couldn’t take it. _Coward_ , he thought at himself just to twist the knife.

“I’m…” Shizuo began, doing his best to steel himself. “I’m sorry.” He chanced a glance back up at Izaya who’d frozen and was looking at him like he really was crazy. “Look, I know this sucks for both of us, but you have it harder. It’s just…” He shook his head. Talking things out had never been his strong suit. He was good at getting to the point, but knowing what to do when he got there had always been difficult. But he had to try something. They had to make a change or this was going to keep going on forever. “It’s hard when you don’t tell me anything. And it’s hard when sometimes you seem _so_ fucking real and human, and I forget…” Shizuo trailed off, feeling like a jackass saying all of this out loud. No wonder Izaya didn’t want to talk about it.

Izaya was silent for a moment, but he drifted down, sat down across from him at the table, mirroring almost perfectly the day he’d first shown himself to Shizuo. He shook his head, looking off past Shizuo again, his expression tight like he was fighting to hold it in place. Finally he looked back and his eyes were so tired and so sad and something inside of Shizuo that he hadn’t felt in years, since Kasuka was still young enough to need a big brother who picked him up and fought off the bad things for him, ached. “I’m not human,” Izaya murmured, not louder than a breath. “Not anymore. But I’m always real. As long as you can see me, at least.” He laughed and it was harsher than before. “It ironic, isn’t it? You’re sitting there, trying to define me, fit me into your reality, when your awareness of me is the only thing keeping me here, defining me in the first place.”

Shizuo almost argued it, but he didn’t know where to start, so he replied with a simple, “Yeah.”

“Shizu-chan needs to figure out when he fighting a losing battle,” Izaya said, leaning his cheek into his palm.

“Probably,” Shizuo muttered, but mostly he was thinking that the distance across the table, between them, felt like thousands of kilometers and that he wanted now more than ever to figure out how to close it.

Another unspoken peace rose between them after that. Izaya was quiet, looking lost in his thoughts more than anything else, or was at least doing a better job of internalizing everything he was feeling. Shizuo had to remind himself that that was a strong possibility when it came to Izaya. It was better than the silent tension, but after another whole day of not talking, Shizuo was getting desperate.

He hadn’t wanted to drag Celty into this, but between him and Izaya alone they were making no progress. He needed a lifeline, and she was his go-to.

Thursday night rolled around under a guise of normality. Shizuo was sitting at his desk, trying to study. Izaya had been drifting in and out of his sight all day, mostly a shadow like he was slowly fading out into black. Finally at one point, when Shizuo couldn’t sense him nearby, he slammed his book closed and walked out into the living area where Celty was cooking something that smelled pretty good.

“Hey Shizuo,” she signed. “How goes the studying?”

“Fine,” he lied, leaning up against the counter. “I’m taking a break.” He thought he might wait for her to finish what she was doing, but he was tired of wasting time. “Could I talk to you about something?”

The fact that the first thing that flickered across Celty’s face was relief spoke to this being a long time coming in her eyes and made Shizuo feel bad. He hadn’t talked to her hardly at all as of late. She moved her pan off the heat, turned off the stove, and came over to him, her face open, inviting. It was her therapist face, he knew, and normally it would have put him off if that wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. “Sure. What’s up?”

Shizuo sighed. He’d been searching for a way to make what was happening sound normal for a couple of days and he’d only stumbled across one. He still wasn’t super happy with it, but he didn’t know how else to put it. “I’ve been…seeing someone lately.”

Celty’s eyes widened almost comically. Clearly that hadn’t been what she’d expected to hear. She tried to contain it immediately after, hiding it behind a smile. “Really? That’s great! Is it someone I know?”

The familiarity that came from interacting with his friend had already taken a weight off Shizuo’s shoulders. He wished it were really that simple, but persisted. “No. He’s…from my high school.”

Celty blinked at him, her eyebrows furrowing. She didn’t twitch much at the pronoun which he didn’t know whether he should be happy about or not. “So it’s long-distance?”

“Yeah,” Shizuo said, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that all of this was a lie. “But we’ve been meeting up some recently. I saw him in the city on Sunday.” He really wished a barrage of images didn’t flash through his head whenever he thought about that day.

Celty nodded in recognition. “I see.” She frowned then. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Sort of.” Shizuo forced himself to keep going, to not chicken out. It ended up all coming out in one big rush of words because of it. “We’ve just been having some problems lately and I don’t know what to do about them. He won’t talk to me about it and a lot’s happened in his life since I last saw him, but he won’t tell me about that either. All it does is piss me off and then he clams up more and I don’t know how to get him to quit it so we can fix this.” He stopped then, realizing he was getting too loud. “Sorry,” he sighed. “I thought maybe you could give me some advice.”

Celty nodded eagerly and Shizuo felt immensely grateful toward her. “Of course! I’m sorry you’re having trouble, but I’m glad you want to try and fix it.” She pursed her lips in thought, leaning over the counter further. “You might want to give him some space at first.” Shizuo thought he’d done quite enough of that, but nodded anyway. “Try not to put words in his mouth to get him talking if you can help it. I’d suggest trying to find some quiet time and some place you can be alone to try to talk. Not much is going to get solved if you’re already angry.”

Shizuo laughed a little at that if only to cover up how accurate her words were. “Okay,” he said, trying to remember it. It didn’t sound too hard, but Izaya had a way of complicating things. “Anything else?”

Narrowing her eyes, Celty thought for another minute before her hands started moving again. “It probably sounds cliché, but if you both want to fix things, they will get better eventually.” She offered Shizuo a small smile that curved up further after a couple of seconds. “How long have you been keeping this from me?”

“Not that long,” Shizuo said, glad to be honest. He felt bad for taking advantage of Celty, but having a second opinion made him feel better. Besides, she’d been in a relationship with someone like Shinra for over a year now, so she had to have learned a few things along the way.

Celty laughed soundlessly and turned to go back to her cooking. “I was only joking. Are you going to let me meet him sometime?”

Shizuo fought to keep his expression neutral. “Maybe.” Suddenly, something flickered across his mind. “But thanks for your help. Sorry to spring it on you all of a sudden.”

Celty shrugged easily. “It’s no trouble.” She paused, biting her lip before she went on. “I…noticed you seemed a little off lately. I’m glad that’s what it was.” She glanced over at him, her eyes wide. “Not glad, but—well, you know what I mean.”

Shizuo laughed and it almost sounded normal. “Yeah, I get it.” He changed the subject after that, asking about her classes, happy to let her talk.

Her advice seemed too simple, but for the moment he was glad to let her optimism buoy his own. He wasn’t about to quit just yet, regardless of what Izaya thought.


	8. Chapter 8

Izaya wasn’t sure what he was feeling anymore, and as a result, he kept his distance. He was thinking things through, analyzing, searching for any possible answer, but kept landing on the same old result. There were a million answers, too many to possibly run through in a lifetime even if they started right away. He wasn’t one to give up easily or look only for the most obvious answer, but he knew when something was beyond hope.

Shizuo, on the other hand, did not, and it was annoying, if interesting to watch. Izaya knew they shared stubbornness as a trait, but he hadn’t expected it to manifest in such a way with Shizuo.

Of course having sex hadn’t fixed anything, but it had been, as he’d told Shizuo, the first good time he’d had in a while and it’d given him something to think about. Why was it that he could feel the heat of Shizuo’s hands on his skin, inside of him, surrounding, when he couldn’t feel the warmth of the shower afterward? There was something to it, but he didn’t know if it could be separated from the fact that he was tied to Shizuo or not. Shizuo was also the only one who could see him, who could hear him. Touch was simply another sense and might fall into that category with no greater meaning.

It was dead end after dead end and he hardly had the resources necessary to properly experiment or piece together more tests, and it was driving him out of his mind. There was a heavy tightness in his chest that wouldn’t seem to leave. It rose into his throat at the slightest provocation as well. After their little conversation, Izaya had decided he ought to spend some time on his own, getting himself back under control. If he was going to have to live like this forever he wasn’t going to become some pitiful sap in the meantime who got upset over everything and wore his emotions on his sleeve.

He was somewhat incredulous that, after everything he’d done—memories of jabbing hard silver into soft skin on a frozen night came to mind—Shizuo had found it in himself to _apologize_ , to try and make it better, not just for himself, but for both of them. Izaya couldn’t tell if he was, somehow, actually scared of him or what he could do, or if it didn’t matter to him, so focused was he on the long-term goal, or what. Shizuo’s reasoning had always been beyond him and it was no different now. He thought, maybe in time, he’d finally be able to understand. That would be an accomplishment, something good to come out of all of this at least.

Izaya hadn’t felt so tired in a long time. When he was alive he’d had something of an endless drive, always working, always moving forward—you had to when you were two steps ahead of everyone else—but now he felt as though he was fading most of the time. His energy was low as was his desire to do much. It was frustrating, but he couldn’t seem to control it. It didn’t help that there wasn’t much to do anyway. It seemed as if he was actually going to die of boredom—metaphorically speaking.

It was Friday that Shizuo strayed from his normal path of routine. Rather than going home after classes, he started walking off across campus, not necessarily toward an exit that Izaya knew of. It was something to focus on, so Izaya asked, “Where are you going?” knowing full well he might not get an answer.

He knew Shizuo might think what he was doing was alright, but only validating Izaya’s existence occasionally got old quickly.

It only made him angrier, too, when he thought about it. He’d never needed validation before and the last person he wanted to rely on was Shizuo, but with everything seeming as though it was slipping away constantly, it was part of a strange panic that rose continuously within him that he couldn’t seem to squash down.

“You’ll see,” Shizuo muttered back in response which was about as helpful as not answering.

Izaya shook his head but dropped down to his feet, trailing after Shizuo, watching as the other people around them trailed away until it was only them, walking alone in the goldish afternoon light. It was a sunnier day than it’d been all week. Izaya assumed that also meant it was warmer judging by the way Shizuo let his coat hang unzipped around his shoulders and hadn’t bothered to bundle up. His breath wasn’t visible and his cheeks and nose weren’t flushed either. It was like a spring day had stumbled in uninvited and shoved its way in right before winter could overpower everything.

They ended up in the middle of a small quad out in the middle of nowhere on campus, obscured by a small army of large trees. Once they were there Shizuo plopped down on a bench and started digging out study materials, but Izaya didn’t buy it. “You came all the way out here to study?” he asked, making sure his words sounded dubious.

“I do sometimes,” Shizuo grumbled after snapping a look over at him that wasn’t convincing at all. “You’ve only been here for a couple of weeks.”

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, almost singing it. “You can’t fool me. I can tell when someone’s lying.”

Shizuo muttered something along the lines of “Probably because you do it so often” under his breath but flipped his book shut, resting his eyes on Izaya alone. “Fine. I actually came out here to…talk.”

Izaya couldn’t help the burst of laughter that followed that. Shizuo looked so uncomfortable and everything about this was ridiculous. “Did you? Who gave you that idea? Your little therapist friend?”

The look that flashed across Shizuo’s face told him he was right. Izaya choked back another laugh, deciding that making Shizuo uneasy by prolonging this and going along with it would be amusing if nothing else. So, he sat down next to Shizuo before he could start defending himself and his silly idea.

Izaya settled back on the bench and turned to find Shizuo looking at him like he might disappear at any time. “You’re actually going to do it?” Shizuo asked, frowning.

“It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Shizuo narrowed his eyes further, but didn’t question it. “I guess.”

And then there was silence. Izaya reveled in the awkwardness, smiling and kicking his legs out. Shizuo had manufactured this situation and he was happy to let him flounder around for a while because of it. Finally, instead of speaking, Shizuo pulled a cigarette from out of his pocket and worked on lighting it up. Izaya watched out of the corner of his eye and wondered how Shizuo expected to get anything done if his mouth was occupied.

“When did you start smoking?” Izaya asked, nonchalant. “You weren’t when I was around.”

Shizuo exhaled a cloud of smoke, looking surprised that Izaya had initiated the conversation. Izaya didn’t know what he’d been expecting them to do: sit around in silence for the rest of the afternoon? “I don’t do it that often. It was after you left.”

Izaya snatched the stick from his fingers while he spoke, putting it up to his lips and taking a drag before Shizuo could take it back with a mild, “Hey.” He held the smoke down for a few moments, could probably hold it in forever if he wanted, and then blew it out in a skinny stream. It didn’t do anything for him, didn’t feel like anything. He’d smoked a couple of times before, knew how it felt, and the burn of the nicotine was absent completely. “Because of me then, was it?”

Shizuo shook his head, brought the cigarette back up to his lips. “Don’t do that.”

“Why not? It’s not like it can hurt me.”

“I don’t need you wasting them,” Shizuo muttered and Izaya smirked, unapologetic.

Another brief, smoke-filled span of quiet later Shizuo managed to get to the point, or at least what Izaya suspected was the point. “You know, when you left, there were a hundred different rumors of why.”

“Hm?” That wasn’t surprising. Transfer students were always a strange point of interest and ones who stayed only briefly more so. Izaya saw what Shizuo was trying to get at with this and didn’t know whether or not he cared.

“Some people thought you were in some victim protection program.” Izaya chuckled at that one. “Most thought you’d gotten in trouble.”

“What about you, Shizu-chan?” Izaya asked, turning to face him, tilting his head to the side. “What did you think?”

Shizuo looked down at his hands, twisted the stick around in his fingers. “I don’t know,” Shizuo said, his voice gruffer than usual. “I didn’t think about it much. I just knew you were gone.”

Izaya fought down the urge to roll his eyes. No wonder he was pulling both of their weight trying to riddle out whatever was happening. “How astute.”

He was wondering if he should continue when Shizuo beat him to it, “Why _did_ you leave?” He was meeting his gaze then, not backing down even when Izaya looked back.

“If you brought me out here to try to eke some sort of tragic backstory out of me you’re going to be disappointed,” Izaya said, waving a hand. “My parents moved around a lot, and that was a particularly short stay. Nothing special at all, just their work.”

Shizuo pressed his lips together, looking off into distance as if trying to reconcile that. “That must have gotten old pretty quickly, moving around all the time.” There was a note of “that must be why you’re like this” that Izaya caught.

He shrugged. It probably was, in part, although he liked to think of himself as self-made for the most part. How he’d adapted to his changing situation had been his choice, not his parents’. “I got to see a lot of places, meet a lot of different people, then when we left, I could become a mystery.” He shot Shizuo a mischievous smile.

A corner of Shizuo’s mouth turned up in response, wry like most of his smiles were. “You did. I figured that’s what you wanted all along. Probably why I tried not to think about it too much.”

“You just didn’t want to think about how much you missed me.”

“I didn’t miss you,” Shizuo shot back immediately.

Izaya soaked in Shizuo’s irritated expression, his rude tone, and decided he sounded more defensive than anything else. It wasn’t his job to resolve or define Shizuo’s feelings however. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Shizuo exhaled, leaned back and spread his arms across the back of the bench. Rays of sun were drifting down through the empty branches above. Some splashed across Shizuo’s face and they lit up his hair and his skin. He’d always had a glow to him that Izaya couldn’t interpret but it was much more pronounced now that he was the way he was. He wondered if this had something to do with Shizuo’s abnormality as much as his own.

“Is that why you wanted to go to the city the other day?”

The question caught Izaya off-guard but he’d always been a quick-thinker. “Something like that,” he said, leaning back against Shizuo’s arm experimentally, settling back against the bench when he didn’t move it. “You might not believe it, but I really am bored out of my mind following you around all day.”

Shizuo sighed, heavy and practiced, dropped his chin down against his chest. He shook his head slightly, staring down at his lap, crumbled like he’d been beaten down. “I don’t know what to tell you anymore, Izaya.”

“You didn’t know what to tell me in the first place,” Izaya pointed out. He hadn’t been meaning to start up an argument with that, but it appeared as though underneath the efforts at remaining calm and handling this logically Shizuo was still ready to boil over at any second. He thought about how he hadn’t been able to keep a proper cover up for days and wondered when they’d switched roles. It was unnatural, that was for sure. “I don’t expect you to know.”

“But you wish I did, right?” The cigarette, left unattended, had burnt itself out, leaving only slow spirals of smoke behind, dissipating into the air above.

“Honestly, I’m starting to think there is no real answer.” Well, not starting to, but coming to terms with the fact that there might not be one.

“I can’t accept that,” Shizuo said, sitting back up, fire in his eyes, looking at Izaya like he’d challenged him to a fight for his honor.

Izaya almost made a joke but thought better of it. This was strange enough as it was. No point it trying to drag normalcy into the picture when it was so clearly nowhere to be found. “You might have to. Not every story has a happy ending, Shizuo.”

Shizuo leaned over the back of the bench this time, tilting his head and baring his neck. Izaya refrained from biting it. “I don’t need a happy ending. I just want one at all. That’s why I brought you out here in the first place. I know you think it’s a stupid idea, but I think laying out everything we know might help. Because I know there’s shit you aren’t telling me.”

Izaya drew back at that, raising his eyebrows. “I’m under no obligation to spill my guts just because you ask me to.”

“But it would help.” Shizuo’s response was terse, showing that hot edge of anger he was trying so hard to hide.

“That’s your solution then,” Izaya said, ignoring his reaction for the time being. He’d go off sooner or later and Izaya could bear witness then.

“It’s better than nothing,” Shizuo said, defensive again. “Do you have a better idea?”

Izaya pursed his lips. He had a thousand and he had none. “You could exorcise me.” Shizuo’s eyes widened and Izaya cackled. “‘It’s better than nothing’, was it?”

They fell into a tolerable silence after that, dropped the subject for the time being. Shizuo did actually begin to study and they sat out until the sun dropped out of sight, casting the world into dark and cold once more.

Shizuo kept pushing throughout the remainder of the week and into the next, asking questions, trying to prod more information out of Izaya, acting like he was just making conversation when Izaya knew exactly what he wanted. It was made all the more ridiculous by the fact that Shizuo was no good at it and was visibly uncomfortable starting off the talks half the time, giving away immediately whether he was talking or investigating, as he probably thought it was.

Izaya replied most of the time since they were small questions, mostly about his family, his sisters, where he’d lived, once if he was able to make friends like that.

“I did well enough with you, didn’t I?” he’d answered and Shizuo had scowled at him.

He supposed he saw the merit in making all the knowledge they possessed common. If they were gathering information on some case file like on a TV drama it would make perfect logical sense, but he didn’t really like the thought of putting his entire life on display for Shizuo to examine and dissect. He liked knowing himself well, but he also took pride in only showing others what they absolutely needed to see. Opening up was as good as pointing out your own blind spots he knew.

He also reasoned, if he knew everything he needed to and he couldn’t find an answer, what good would Shizuo be? Still, the other man was persistent to the point of it being equal parts impressive and annoying.

By the following Wednesday, Izaya could tell that the act was wearing thin. Mostly because that night Shizuo started talking to him and he ordinarily never acknowledged that he was around after he went to sleep. It was always Izaya who initiated conversations there. But Shizuo was on his side, curled into himself, and he was addressing him so Izaya moved closer to listen.

“Why don’t you just kill me?” he was muttering and at first Izaya thought he was having a dream, but it then it was punctuated by a short, “Huh? I know you’re in here.”

Izaya would never understand how Shizuo’s brain worked, he decided, even if he had the rest of his life to try. “I’ve thought about it,” he said, and it was an honest answer. Mostly during the first couple of weeks this had gone on. He’d been furious and disoriented and trapped, all because of Shizuo, or so it had seemed. It would be easy to sneak up on him, use a knife or even just a pillow.

“It would be easy. Then this could be over.”

Izaya didn’t know if that was true. They might both just end up ghosts together which wouldn’t be any better for him than it was now. Besides, that was exactly the reason he hadn’t done it. It was too easy. He liked to play games, but he also liked a challenge and Shizuo, for as long as he could remember, had been the perfect one. Beating him so simply hadn’t felt fair and he had a feeling he wouldn’t get much out of it. Still, that aside, Shizuo’s tone was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. “You’re saying you _want_ to die?”

“No,” Shizuo snapped, and Izaya believed him. “I’m trying to understand. Because it almost seems like you’re doing me a favor when you _could_ be helping yourself, and that doesn’t seem normal to me.”

“You don’t know everything about me, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, irritated that they were plodding back down this path.

Shizuo sat up then, lurching into motion and looking eerily right at Izaya where he’d been hovering by the end of the bed. He moved to sit on it then since Shizuo knew he was there anyway. “I _know_ , okay? But I keep trying to learn more and you keep pushing me away. I _have_ to make assumptions if you won’t tell me anything. I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Izaya wished Shizuo would stop pointing it out already because he didn’t know either. There was nothing _to_ do, but Shizuo couldn’t seem to get that through his thick skull. Izaya stayed silent and Shizuo threw himself back down onto the bed, making the whole thing shake.

“You drive me crazy,” he grumbled, smashing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Izaya didn’t know how he meant that and he didn’t elaborate so Izaya didn’t think about it too much at the moment. “It’s not like you would be inclined to do any different if you were in my position.” He didn’t know that, but it was better to go with a strong, fake claim than a weaker, more truthful one.

“I don’t know,” Shizuo mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. Shadows played along his face, outlining the sharp edge of his cheekbones, the arch of his nose, the line of his jaw. Izaya followed them with his eyes like a road map. “That’s what you keep telling me, isn’t it? I don’t know how it feels. I don’t know how I would act because I’m not you. You know, that’s one thing I never got. I always thought dying, unless it was when you were old and expecting it had to be pretty traumatic on everyone, but you always act like it was nothing, like it was just something that happened. There’s no way it didn’t affect you somehow.”

Memories rushed through his mind, unbidden. Dirty hands and meaningless voices echoing around and a sharp ache and shock and falling and feeling like he might never hit the ground. He shook them free right after, shoving them back into the corner of his mind where he’d put them.

“Izaya?” Shizuo was sitting up, looking at him again, eyebrows pulled together.

Izaya turned away so Shizuo wouldn’t be able to see his face and faded out again for good measure. It would be telling, but he hadn’t expected to be bombarded the way he had. “It _was_ just something that happened,” Izaya said after he was sure his voice wouldn't give away the chill of fear and panic that had run through him like lightning. “No point in dwelling on it.”

Shizuo frowned, clearly not buying it and Izaya hated him for it. He decided he’d had enough of this conversation and of Shizuo’s useless attempts at making him talk. “Staying up so late isn’t good for you. Shizu-chan’s such a beast he needs all the beauty rest he can get. Sleep well.” He moved quickly then, ignoring Shizuo’s calls of his name after him, moved out into the night, melting easily into the shadows.

 _Idiot_ , he thought, working hard to shut back down the images Shizuo had brought to mind. By the time morning had come he still hadn’t succeeded.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the shorter chapter, but I needed to split this one and the next one up somewhere to keep them manageable. Where this one ends is the best place I could find to do that.

Izaya still wasn’t around in the morning that Shizuo could see. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. It wasn’t like he’d slept all that well anyway. He’d been wondering since the day Izaya showed himself how it was that he’d died. Of course. That was more or less the first thing that came to mind when you thought of a ghost. In spite of that, he knew it was probably a sensitive topic, and he’d been avoiding it.

Until last night.

He hadn’t meant to push so hard. He’d been so careful for almost a week, but talking to Izaya was like trying to break down a brick wall with a plastic spoon. He was learning more about him, sure, but it wasn’t that much and every single conversation required an equivalent amount of effort as running ten kilometers. He’d wanted so badly for this to work even though he knew it was a long shot, and it hadn’t been, and then he’d fucked it up, per usual.

Shizuo wanted to be mad at Izaya for being so secretive, so difficult, and in some ways he was, but mostly he realized he couldn’t be. Even though he was the one who was dead, he was more or less still mourning at the moment for his own life and Shizuo hadn’t experienced grief personally before, but he knew how it could mess you up from seeing people around him go through it. So, instead, his anger was turned toward himself. Because of that, he felt like shit. Half of him didn’t even want to go to class, but he knew Celty would get worried if he didn’t, so he forced himself to get out of bed, walk out into the living room, pretend like everything was fine.

“Good morning!” Celty signed when she noticed him.

He winced and then felt bad for not wanting to see her. “Hey.”

“Do you want me to make you breakfast? One of my classes was cancelled this morning.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” Shizuo said, mostly wanting to get to the shower already.

“Okay. But, hey, did you ever talk to your boyfriend?” Celty’s face was open, interested as always and he wished he could just tell her the truth even if he knew there was no way he could. “Did it help?”

“We’re…still working on it,” Shizuo said, trying not to choke on the word boyfriend even though that was what _he’d_ described in the first place. “But it was a start.”

That satisfied Celty for the time being and allowed Shizuo to escape to the shower, chest heavy with guilt all around. As he’d expected he didn’t see Izaya much that day. He felt like he was glancing around as much as he had been the first week, but because of an absence rather than a presence. Izaya stayed out of sight for extended periods of time but never for a whole day. Shizuo wanted to shout out him to come back already but knew it would do fuck all to help. He took the time he’d been given to sit down and watch a conspiracy theory show with Celty that night when she asked, but his heart wasn’t in it. Plus, he was so restless that sitting still for an extended period of time was torture which meant he had to keep trying to find excuses to get up.

Rather than getting into bed that night he sat up, catching up on some work, not focusing much, sitting on the side of his bed when he was done, hoping that would draw Izaya’s attention. He hated to wait but there wasn’t anything else he could do. Izaya showed back up around two in the morning, a moving shadow in the corner of his eye like he had been at the beginning.

“I hope you weren’t waiting up for me,” he commented, not bothering to change forms at all.

Shizuo grunted rather than answering. He tried to hold back the frustration he was feeling but it didn’t work. “Where were you all day? Running away might be easy, but it doesn’t help anything. And anyway—”

“You want to know how I died, right?” Izaya cut through his train of thought smoothly, like he hadn’t started talking in the first place. His voice was cool and detached, but Shizuo couldn’t see his face still.

That threw Shizuo for a loop. He frowned, figuring that had to be a trick question. “Yeah, but I’m not going to force you tell me.”

“You couldn’t if you wanted to,” Izaya pointed out, waving a hand at him. Shizuo felt a jab of irritation in response, but only gripped the edges of the bed tighter. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t care.” Shizuo would beg to differ, but he let Izaya continue whatever this was.

Izaya moved so he was more in Shizuo’s immediate line of sight while he spoke. Shizuo thought he could hear him take a quiet breath before he began but he wasn’t sure. “Almost a month ago now, three men jumped me in an alley. I was wandering around, out later than my parents would have liked, doing this and that, and they grabbed hold of me. It was dark and I couldn’t see their faces well so I still don’t know whether I’d actually done something to them or if they’d mistaken me for someone else.” He forced a laugh there. “It’s pretty stupid, now that I think about it. They caught me off-guard when I shouldn’t have been.” Shizuo was impressed by how light he was able to keep his voice through it and annoyed in the same vein. That wasn’t something you were supposed to be _okay_ with.

“Want to see the scar?” Izaya asked a couple seconds later when Shizuo didn’t respond which didn’t help, showing himself at last. “Those stay with you—scars. Maybe I’m supposed to manipulate you to help me get to revenge and this is here to remind me.” He was lifting up his shirt, exposing his side before Shizuo replied, showing off what must have been a pretty deep gash. It looked like a stab wound, messy and ragged. It stood out pink against his skin, rough like someone had pinched some of it together and sewn it up but didn’t quite know what they were doing.

Shizuo tore his eyes away because it was making his side hurt just looking at it. He was trying to process all this and it wasn’t going over well. “Was that all they did?” he asked, quiet but Izaya had started down this road. He wouldn’t have if he hadn’t expected Shizuo to keep going.

Izaya shrugged. “They kicked me around a little before they decided they wanted to get serious.”

Shizuo felt relief rush through him even if he had no way to tell whether or not Izaya was telling the truth. The anger came then. Anger at whoever had done that to a kid—not that Izaya was a regular kid, but he was still younger than the people who’d attacked him presumably—anger at Izaya’s flippancy and carelessness for his well-being—he’d been like that in high school too, weirdly unaware or uncaring about his own mortality—anger at whoever or whatever had dropped them in this situation. As it was, only Izaya was in front of him so he became the target for it.

“Why the hell were you wandering around alone at night if you knew it could be dangerous?” he demanded.

Izaya was still faint, but Shizuo could tell he’d caught him off-guard with that. “Everything’s dangerous, Shizu-chan. I did it all the time.”

“Why? Why put yourself at risk like that?” Shizuo pushed on, trying to understand. He wanted to kick Izaya’s ass for being so stupid but felt frozen to the bed simultaneously. “You did it with me too. Why get so close?” _Not that I could ever catch you unless you wanted me to._

“No reward comes without risk,” Izaya said patronizingly. “I could handle it. I’m not a kid, or I wasn’t.”

“Obviously you couldn’t or you wouldn’t be here!” Shizuo had gotten to his feet at some point. He didn’t remember standing but nothing felt all that real at the moment.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Izaya said, voice incredulous. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset. This happens all the time. People die every day, Shizuo.”

“I don’t get how you’re _not_ upset,” Shizuo shot back. It kind of felt like someone had stabbed _him_ in the chest. “I’m not talking about other people. I’m talking about you. That was your _life_ , Izaya.”

That finally got a stronger reaction from him. He spun, baring his teeth at Shizuo, his voice laced with venom. “You think I _meant_ to get stabbed in an alley? You think I went back there willingly?”

Shizuo had to pause to backpedal because that was _not_ what he meant. It was hard when his mind was stuffed full with too many thoughts at once. “ _No_ , but you should have known better than to put yourself in a situation where your _life_ would be at risk. And if you had to you should have been ready to defend yourself!” Shizuo knew he could. He knew Izaya had carried a knife when he was alive and that he knew he knew how to use it. He’d been on the wrong end of it several times before.

“They got _lucky_ ,” Izaya hissed, his cover had melted off completely at some point and Shizuo could see his face, eyes wide, eyebrows pulled together, jaw tight. “Why are you so worked up about this? I thought you wanted me to tell you. No one likes a hypocrite.”

Izaya was probably the last person who should be saying that, but it didn’t matter. Shizuo didn’t really know why either, why he was so outraged, so upset, but he thought it had something to do with Izaya’s non-reaction, how he kept acting like it was fine. He reached out, grabbed onto Izaya’s shoulders and dug his fingers in hard. Izaya jerked back but didn’t move, didn’t disappear, tilting his head up, something shifting in his expression as he looked at Shizuo. “I’m worked up because you’re _not_.”

Izaya shook his head slightly, his expression bending confused. He brought his own hands up to rest on Shizuo’s forearms and Shizuo could hardly feel the burn that was usually there when Izaya touched him. “Shizuo. It doesn’t matter. It’s over now, it happened. You really think getting angry about it will help anything?” He choked out something that was probably meant to be a laugh. “You’re the one who told me it wouldn’t fix anything. It doesn’t matter. It was just one life. There’s billions of people in the world—”

“It matters,” Shizuo insisted, holding on tighter to Izaya’s shoulders in a way he knew would ordinarily leave bruises as if he could convince him by pure force. Desperation gripped him and made his voice break, but he knew he _had_ to make Izaya believe it somehow. He had to. “Don’t you fucking dare say that. It _matters_. _You_ matter, Izaya.”

Everything was going blurry by then, had been for a while, but it was getting so Izaya was just one big black smudge in front of him. The back of his throat ached and his eyes burned and he didn’t know why the hell his tear ducts had been betraying him so often this past month, but he did his best to blink the tears away angrily and meet Izaya’s eyes, refusing to back down. Izaya was shaking and then he was trying to pull back, but Shizuo was sick of letting him run away and he knew he could get away still if he wanted, but that wasn’t at the forefront of his mind currently.

He yanked back, crushing Izaya against his chest and holding him there. Izaya struggled violently for a few long moments, jabbing him with various limbs, protesting under his breath, but Shizuo just held on tighter and he eventually succumbed. Izaya didn’t reciprocate, only curled his arms up against his chest and smashed his face up against Shizuo. Shizuo’s legs felt weak so he sank down to the floor, taking Izaya down with him.

Izaya kept shaking and Shizuo held him tighter to try and make it stop. A million different emotions were tangling together somewhere inside of him—guilt, anger, grief to name a few stand-outs—and it got to the point where Shizuo couldn’t even distinguish them individually. Instead, he held onto Izaya and rode them out, not moving or commenting even as felt his shirt getting thoroughly drenched. When it was over he felt as worn out as he had the day they’d first come to some sort of uneasy truce. He didn’t know what to think, didn’t know if he should be standing up, getting away, or what. Izaya wasn’t making any move to break free of the embrace so he decided he’d stay where he was.

Shizuo started rubbing his hand up and down Izaya’s back, taking in how real and solid he felt in his arms at the moment. Izaya started moving again soon after as if Shizuo had stumbled across his power button. He shifted, turning so he was sitting sideways in Shizuo’s lap, leaning his temple against Shizuo’s shoulder. He rubbed at his face, sighing.

“That wasn’t how I expected that to go,” he admitted. His voice was rough, airy, more somber than usual.

“What did you think would happen?” Shizuo asked and he wasn’t too surprised when it came out a little hysterical. “You’d tell me you got stabbed to death alone at night in an alley and I’d be fine with it?”

“I thought you’d stop bugging me about it if I told you.” Izaya’s voice was raw with honesty and Shizuo wondered if he’d ever spoken to anyone like this before. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“How could you not?” Shizuo asked for what seemed like the millionth time.

“I don’t know.” Izaya had pulled his hand into his lap and was pulling on his fingers. Shizuo didn’t try to stop him. “I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t think it would be worthwhile to wallow in grief. I had more pressing matters to attend to.”

Shizuo couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his throat. “You must be the worst ghost ever. You come back from the dead and the first thing you do is decide to not think about how you died.”

Izaya laughed too and pressed their palms together. “Compartmentalization can be a useful strategy to deal with complicated or stressful events.”

“Not when it involves shoving whatever happened into a box and never touching it again.”

Izaya sighed and it was over-dramatic. He was sounding more like himself again. “So picky.”

Something occurred to Shizuo then. He didn’t know why; his brain was just on the subject. “You haven’t seen your family since you died then, have you?”

It sounded stupid as soon as he said it and Izaya leaning back to give him a look only served to drive that point home. “Of course I haven’t.”

“Do you think they…you know, found your body?” Shizuo didn’t know how to phrase it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Izaya said instead of asking.

“Like what if you weren’t laid to rest properly and that’s why this happened,” Shizuo suggested, feeling like one of the announcers on Celty’s conspiracy theory shows.

Izaya pursed his lips to the side threading and unthreading their fingers. “I suppose. It would make as much sense as the rest of this. But my body would have rotted away by now for the most part if it wasn’t found quickly enough, or at least enough to make it unrecognizable if they didn’t find it.”

Shizuo tried not to think about it too much. “But wouldn’t you like to know? It would be an easy thing to try at least, wouldn’t it?”

Izaya let Shizuo’s hand drop, leaned up against him more heavily. “What would you have us do? Start a police investigation?”

“No,” Shizuo grumbled. “We could go ask your family about it though. They’d know what happened, wouldn’t they?” Izaya froze up in his arms, his muscles going stiff and Shizuo figured he’d said the wrong thing again, not that he understood how. “What, you don’t want to see them? It’s not like you got a chance to say goodbye before you went.”

“They won’t be able to see me,” Izaya reminded him coolly. “I don’t have any unfinished business with them. For all we know they could have already moved again.”

Shizuo frowned, not sure where this resistance was coming from. He knew Izaya didn’t have the closest relationship with his family, but it wasn’t particularly bad either. Still, he figured it probably had something to do with the same reason he hadn’t wanted to think about his own death. But Shizuo had a strong feeling about this in a way he hadn’t before. They’d spent weeks directionless, spinning around, idling. At least this was somewhere to start.

“We should at least try,” Shizuo said, making his tone more assertive. “I’d like to pay my respects.”

Izaya was getting up off him, shoving him away, standing and floating off toward the other side of the room. “What? As the boy who fucked their son once in high school?”

Shizuo flinched back like he’d been hit. “As their son’s _friend_ ,” he corrected, not that it had been true at the time, but he refused to be sidetracked by that again. He didn’t think the word he’d used fit quite right either, but it was close enough.

Izaya fell silent, crossing his arms over his chest and not looking at Shizuo. Shizuo figured he’d poke fun at the word, fixate on that more than his suggestion, but he didn’t. It looked like both of them were too tired to quibble over semantics. Finally he said, “It’s not like I can stop you,” which didn’t exactly sound like agreement, definitely didn’t sound like anticipation, but it also didn’t sound like flat out rejection. Shizuo knew giving Izaya space and respecting his wishes was important, but he also knew that sometimes you had to push to get things done, and he felt like it was one of those times.

“I just want to try,” Shizuo said, keeping his voice steady. “See what happens.”

“I know,” Izaya sighed, kicking his feet up so he looked like he was floating around on a pool float. “Just don’t blame me if it’s not what you expect.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a long one, but an important one.
> 
> A brief disclaimer: I really know nothing about the canonical portrayal of Orihara Kyoko, Izaya's mother, so any interpretations here are entirely my own and belong solely to this AU.

Shizuo woke up the next morning with a sore throat and a headache and decided there was no way in hell he was going to class. He had more important things to be doing with his time anyway. He managed to bully Izaya’s most recent address out of him, but that was about as much help as he offered. Shizuo figured Izaya would be better at organizing all of this, figuring out which lines to take to get there, which route was the best, but he was resolutely being as useless as possible, especially with his running commentary that increased in volume and frequency whenever Shizuo made a mistake.

“That’s not helping,” Shizuo growled after Izaya pointed out another line he could have used.

“Yes it is,” Izaya said, smiling at having gotten a reaction out of him no doubt.

“How?”

“It’s slowing you down, isn’t it?” Izaya giggled when Shizuo glared at him and started to erase the line he’d been drawing. They were at the kitchen table because there was more light there than in his room and because Celty wouldn’t be back from her class for lunch for another hour or so. He’d splayed a map of train routes out across it to look at. “I never said I was helping _you_.”

Shizuo went back to calculating how much all of this would cost, thinking about the state of his bank account, and how this trip was going to put a dent in it. “Why are you so against this anyway? You’re the one who told me to think of ideas and now that I finally have one you’re acting like I did something wrong.”

When Izaya didn’t respond Shizuo assumed he was sulking and finished his current addition so he wouldn’t have to redo it again. He glanced up however and Izaya had some far-away look in his eyes that spoke to his reaction having been one of more than simple annoyance. Shizuo set his pencil down, sighing and running a hand through his hair. He had to keep reminding himself that one night wasn’t going to suddenly make Izaya an open book; if anything it had proved how tightly he held his feelings to his chest, how desperately he shielded them from sight, even if it was his own.

“Do you really not want to do this?” Shizuo asked, dropping his voice serious. He’d already been working half an hour and he thought it was stupid not to, but Izaya didn’t exactly have free-will at the moment and he was trying to not take advantage of that. Izaya opened his mouth, and Shizuo interrupted him. “I’m serious. No jokes.”

Izaya hummed, muttering a quick, “Boring,” under his breath. He turned away from Shizuo going over to look out the window, blocking off some of the light rushing in. “Of course I don’t want to,” he finally replied and Shizuo wished he could see his expression but he didn’t want to move and spook him. “But I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

Shizuo didn’t know how to take that, wished Izaya wasn’t so cryptic when he spoke. “Do you want me to stop or not?”

Izaya snapped an irritated glance over his shoulder at Shizuo. “I won’t try to stop you. I’ve found that to be a waste of time before anyway. I think it must be because you have such little total brain power that you’re able to direct it entirely toward one task. That would explain that exasperating persistence of yours.”

Digging his nails into his palms, Shizuo turned his attention back to his work. He wasn’t in the mood to be baited like that right now. The fact that Izaya kept forcing him to interpret how he was feeling and then got mad at him for it pissed him off, but having something real to do helped him ignore it. He could only guess that Izaya didn’t want to face his parents, didn’t want to face this, but that he knew it would be good for closure and for him in general. It wouldn’t kill him and if he really was that put off it, he could stay away. He had a bit of wiggle room, could explore the radius the house if he wanted while Shizuo took the brunt of the blow that communicating with his family would surely bring.

Shizuo wasn’t particularly looking forward to that. He wasn’t great with words and from what he’d learned, Izaya’s parents were busy, intimidating people, meaning they wouldn’t tolerate bumbling around. He was doing his best not to think about it. His mouth was bound to move without prior thought anyway once he got there.

Shizuo thought about waiting until Saturday to go, but he was tired of sitting around, making no progress, and he’d already decided to take the day off. It was still pretty early. The only thing left to do really was wait for Celty to get home so he could tell her where he was going. Shizuo finished up his planning and decided he should take a shower before they left.

He was stripping off his t-shirt when he noticed he wasn’t alone. He turned and scowled at Izaya who wasn’t moving his eyes even after being caught, not possessing enough decency to even look guilty. “Want some help?” he asked, the undertone of the words painfully suggestive.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Shizuo grumbled. There wasn’t much force behind it, but he was serious. He didn’t need anything else added to the list of things bouncing around his head. The memories of Izaya leaning back against his arm when he’d taken him out in the middle of nowhere to talk and curled tight against his chest last night were bad enough anyway. Even thinking about them briefly made his chest feel tight for all the wrong reasons.

“Why?” Izaya asked, teasing. He faded out to the point where Shizuo could only see him because he’d learned what to look for, had gotten used to recognizing that shadow in the corner of his eye. “I know you jerk off in here.” Shizuo clenched his teeth and ignored the burn in his cheeks. That had been _one time_. “Pretty stupid, don’t you think, when you have me around. You have the whole rest of your life to get off alone in your shower. What if this actually works and you never see me again after today? Won’t you regret saying no?”

He had a point, but only insomuch as Izaya ever had a point when he was obviously trying to manipulate him into something. “Don’t watch me like that,” Shizuo said. “What I do on my own time is none of your business. I said no.”

“Your time is my time, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said. “But it’s your loss.” He appeared to leave then, but Shizuo showered quicker than usual nonetheless. He knew Izaya was probably just looking for a distraction, and honestly he would have liked one too, but it wasn’t the right time. He didn’t need images of that popping into his head while he was trying to talk to Izaya’s family.

Celty arrived home soon after, luckily, and Shizuo realized he might have a problem about three seconds before Celty asked, meaning well and completely ignorant of the hole she was digging him, “Oh, are you going to see your boyfriend?”

It was hard to talk with Izaya apparently keeling over with laughter in the background.

Shizuo bit the inside of his cheek and focused on Celty’s face. He knew that was going to fuck him over somehow. “Yeah,” he forced out, having already explained the majority of his plans to her.

“That’s great!” Celty’s smile was so sincere that it made it impossible to be even mildly irritated with her. “Maybe I’ll spend some time with Shinra while you’re gone.”

“Good idea,” Shizuo said, clinging to the change in topic.

“Do you think you’ll be back by tonight?” she asked and her expression remained so smooth that he had no idea if she was suggesting anything or if he was paranoid from hanging around Izaya so long.

“I’ll be back pretty late if I am,” Shizuo said quickly wishing he could send a glare back at Izaya who still hadn’t quite calmed down. “If not, it’ll be early morning tomorrow.”

“Got it.” Celty offered him another smile, this one more purposeful. “Good luck. I hope you have a nice time together.”

Shizuo didn’t know what to expect from all of this so he simply nodded along. They said their final farewells, Celty wishing him safe travels, and then he was off toward the nearest train station. Izaya’s family didn’t live too terribly far away, a couple of hours by train.

“Boyfriend, hm?” Izaya asked as soon as they were outside. “Funny, I thought that was something of a mutual decision. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Shizuo huffed and did a cursory check to make sure there wasn’t anyone around before he responded. “Shut up. I couldn’t tell her the truth. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, I think it might,” Izaya said, still sounding close to dissolving into laughter again. “Seeing how you jumped straight from friend which would have worked just as well to boyfriend.”

“It made more sense at the time,” Shizuo claimed, wishing Izaya would drop it. “Having relationship troubles with a friend from high school doesn’t sound normal.”

Izaya did laugh at that point, loud and open, up into the bright autumn sky. “Is that what you told her? That’s hysterical.”

Shizuo didn’t like how close this was all coming to brushing up against his real feelings, especially when Izaya was so obviously mocking the notion, same as before. He didn’t reply, only walked faster toward the station.

It was early afternoon by the time they boarded and Shizuo fell dead asleep a short while after. Half of it was a survival strategy for getting through two hours alone with Izaya who would probably try to talk to him even when he knew Shizuo couldn’t respond for all the people around, but half of it was genuine exhaustion that hit him like a wave and dragged him under like a riptide. When he came to Izaya was staring out the window next to him, watching the countryside zip by in a blur of reds and browns.

Shizuo stretched his shoulders and checked his phone for the time. There were only about ten minutes left it seemed. He was impressed by how well that had worked out. That settled, he turned back to Izaya who didn’t say anything. He had that expression on his face that he wore sometimes when he was deep inside his head, far beyond Shizuo’s reach, thinking or forcibly not thinking, Shizuo didn’t know which. He looked different when he was concentrating: older, more tired, more like someone Shizuo thought he could be afraid of.

The hard lines of his face fell away when he laughed or smiled. Only his eyes remained the same, piercing, unreadable, almost unreal in the right light when they seemed to glow red. It was one of the first things Shizuo had ever noticed about him, way back in high school. He saw those eyes in his dreams, still did for months after he’d left, and they’d come back as of late. Shizuo thought it might be because the rest of him was cast in gray scale, even his clothing so they stood out. The only other point of contrast was his mouth, but he flashed his white smile around so much that it didn’t matter.

Izaya turned to look at him before he could stop staring and did just that, his previous expression melting away. “Sleeping with our eyes open, are we?”

Shizuo shook himself and refocused his thoughts, grunting in reply to Izaya who chuckled but made no further comment. They disembarked the train soon after, heading out onto the street where Shizuo attempted to get his bearings.

Izaya’s family lived in the middle of a city which figured. Luckily Shizuo had grown up in Tokyo so he didn’t think he’d have too much trouble finding his way around. He _had_ expected Izaya to be put in a better mood the way he had the last time they’d gone out, but if anything he looked wary, glancing around even as he kept a slight curve to his lips.

It occurred to Shizuo that this was where Izaya had lived, at least for a time. He’d probably walked down this street, had used that train station. He might know some of the people they walked by, whereas Shizuo was nothing more than a stranger in this place. He decided he’d leave Izaya be, give him some space while he focused on actually getting them where they needed to go.

The Orihara family didn’t actually live within the city, but in a house in the suburbs nearby, as it turned out. Shizuo weaved through the maze of streets, navigating the midday traffic, past thousands of people who didn’t spare him a second glance until they were free once more of the cage of tall buildings and shiny metal around them. The sun was dropping lower in the sky and he began to pass children on their way home from school, some on bikes, some on foot, all gathered in little groups chatting to each other.

“Is this the right way?” Shizuo asked even though he was pretty sure it was. Izaya’s silence was beginning to grow heavy on his shoulders. Still, he was following along with Shizuo every step, trailing along on foot, ignoring when kids walked right through him.

“More or less,” he said unhelpfully. “I do think that was the most convoluted route you could have taken through the city.”

“You could have told me that.”

Izaya shrugged, glancing around still. “See that house there?” 

Shizuo looked over, following his finger, and nodded. “What about it?”

“I knew the kid who lives there. Pretty dull, but pretty greedy too. Lots of people are like that,” he said and it wasn’t as patronizing as Shizuo would have expected. There was a cool analytical air to it like a doctor giving a diagnosis.

Once he got started he seemed disinclined to stop so as they continued on, Izaya kept pointing out houses and people to Shizuo who interrupted only to tell him that it was creepy how much he knew for only having lived there about a month. That apparently encouraged him to go more in-depth.

“I don’t get how you remember all that,” Shizuo muttered. They were getting close, one turn left. He knew Izaya was most likely avoiding the reality of it on purpose, but he wasn’t going to stop him. Truthfully, it didn’t feel very real to him either.

“I wouldn’t expect someone like you to be able to,” Izaya said lightly. “It’s not that hard. People stick out in my mind. They say everyone’s different, but there are patterns to be found, repeated traits. They’re not set in stone, but it’s a good place to start.”

“Yeah? Where do I fit?” Shizuo asked before he could think about it.

Izaya looked him over thoroughly and Shizuo could almost feel it as though he’d run his fingers physically down the length of his body. “Not everyone fits in. Shizu-chan’s in a category all his own.”

Shizuo couldn’t tell if it was meant to be an insult but it didn’t matter because they were turning the corner and all at once they were there, standing outside the gate. It looked like any other house. Shizuo didn’t know what he’d been expecting.

“This is it, isn’t it?” he asked, glancing over at Izaya’s whose expression had gone completely blank.

He didn’t have to answer, as it turned out. A few moments later a girl, maybe preteen in age, rounded the corner of the house, spotted Shizuo, and started yelling at him. “Hey!” she called, her voice shrill. “Do you need something?”

Another girl came after her, identical save for her shorter hair and lack of glasses, looking him over with softer eyes.

Shizuo recognized them as Izaya’s sisters. He could see the likeness in their faces, though theirs were softer than Izaya’s, still maturing, and could tell them apart from Izaya’s descriptions in the past couple of weeks. Mairu was frowning at him, looking like a guard dog ready to attack and he realized he must look bad, a college-aged guy standing creepily silent at their gate.

Shizuo cleared his throat and force himself to speak. “Uh, yeah. I was wondering if your parents are home.”

Mairu looked ready to start shouting at him again, but Kururi stepped forward, her eyebrows pulling together and her sister calmed down some. “Why?”

“I’m…” Shizuo looked for the right words, still reconciling with himself the fact that this was actually happening. “I wanted to talk to them about your brother.”

“You’re too late,” Mairu called, still several meters away from him, across the yard. “He’s already dead.”

Kururi’s face crumbled slightly at Mairu’s words and the latter grew immediately apologetic, reaching out to squeeze her sister’s hand, whispering something to her that Shizuo couldn’t hear. Kururi replied, and Mairu’s expression grew petulant. She blew out a sigh and turned back to him. “Why?” she asked, echoing her sister.

“I’m…sorry,” Shizuo said, feeling overwhelmed now that he was being faced with people, especially kids, in real grief. There was a dissonance that came with it since he could still see Izaya standing silently beside him out of the corner of his eye. “I wanted to give my condolences. I was…his friend. In high school.”

Mairu’s eyes grew sharp with suspicion, narrowing at him. “Iza-nii didn’t have any friends.”

Shizuo was always impressed by how painfully honest little kids could be. It got a short laugh out of Izaya if nothing else, but it was forced, making Shizuo suspect it was the truth. It seemed strange to him that someone as enigmatic as Izaya would have been lacking for company, but he supposed, with his personality, it wouldn’t be too much a reach.

Shizuo shook himself, trying to plant himself better in the conversation. “I only knew him for about three months,” Shizuo explained, unsure how to convince these young girls that he meant well. He focused on Kururi who was looking him over with big eyes. “Please,” he tried.

That seemed to do something. Kururi turned Mairu so they were facing each other again and they began speaking quietly. Shizuo took the time to look over at Izaya who wouldn’t meet his eyes. He took a deep breath, hoping to hell he was doing the right thing.

When he looked up Kururi was approaching him, trailed by Mairu who was stomping along after her, cheeks puffed out slightly. By the time they reached the gate Shizuo could see the shadows under their little eyes. He clenched his teeth. No little kids should have to deal with this.

“Were you really Iza-nii’s friend?” Kururi asked, looking up at him. Her gaze was searing, and he felt as though she could see right through him.

“Yes,” he replied anyway and that seemed to be enough. They opened the gate and let him in a few moments later.

Shizuo followed as they lead him inside, wondering if this would ever stop feeling so surreal. He felt like an intruder as soon as he stepped into the house, glancing around and seeing the family photos. Something hurt in his chest even though he knew he had no right to feel sad. Kururi pushed a few toys out of the way as Mairu fixed him with her eyes again, stopping him short.

“You’re pretty late, you know?” she said. “The funeral was weeks ago.”

“Yeah,” he said, feeling guilty in spite of himself. “Sorry.”

Mairu squinted at him once more and then ran ahead, yelling that they would make tea. Shizuo toed off his shoes, nudging them to the side. He caught sight of Izaya when he did, feeling like an idiot because he’d almost forgotten he was there at all.

“Delightful, aren’t they?” he asked, and there was no feeling to it. His arms were crossed over his chest, his fingers digging in hard to the skin of his arms, but the rest of his body language was completely blasé even as he glanced around. It hurt to watch, but Shizuo had to let him handle himself right now.

He stepped inside the house proper, thankful for the heat of it after the biting cold of the outside air. It was cleaner maybe than most houses, but it still looked for the most part like a real home, a place where people gathered. He ended up in a kitchen where the girls were pushing around a step stool to help them reach the too-high counter, chattering among themselves. They fell silent when they noticed Shizuo.

“So what’s your name?” Mairu asked, not missing a beat. “Where are you from anyway?”

“Heiwajima Shizuo,” Shizuo said automatically. “I go to college right outside of Tokyo.”

“Really?” Mairu asked, her eyes lighting up some. “We used to live in Tokyo! Is that where you met Iza-nii? It’s so big and there were so many buildings there! We want to live there when we get older because we’re always reading about cool stuff happening there! Does cool stuff happen where you live?”

Shizuo chuckled at the abrupt shift in mood. “Not on my campus.”

“Tea’s ready,” Kururi announced as Mairu groaned in disappointment.

They ended up seated around the table. Shizuo noticed Izaya drift off toward the living area behind them as he sipped at his tea.

“Mom should be home pretty soon,” Mairu said abruptly, as if only then remembering why he was there in the first place. “I don’t think Dad’s coming home till late tonight, but she should be good enough.”

Relief pooled in his stomach, knowing that he was going to get to talk to an adult. He didn’t want to ask the girls about whether or not they’d actually found Izaya’s body. Mairu filled what might have otherwise been an awkward silence by chattering at him nonstop about Tokyo, only pausing now and again to get Kururi’s input.

It gave Shizuo a few minutes to try to ground himself in the reality of what was happening. It hadn’t seemed so real until then, he didn’t think, in spite of how many times he’d tried to convince himself of it. But this was really how it was. This was the world, this was Izaya’s family going on without him, making do as they could. Regret was scratching at him which was annoying, but he couldn’t help but imagine this going differently, being introduced to this house, this family in a different way, if only things hadn’t happened the way they had.

But it was done and nothing could change that. They couldn’t see Izaya, would have to make peace in their own time over what had happened, as would everyone else. It was just hard to think about.

“He was stabbed to death in an alley, did you know that?” Mairu asked suddenly, a complete non-sequitur that almost made Shizuo choke on his tea. “Pretty crazy, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” Shizuo said, for lack of anything better.

“If I’d known he was gonna go and die that night I would have come out and said goodbye to him before I went to bed,” Mairu said, sounding wistful. She looked off past Shizuo’s head and then over at Kururi who was staring down at the table.

Shizuo felt powerless to comfort them, but he had to try anyway, he thought. “You miss him, huh?”

“Sort of,” Mairu said immediately even as Kururi pinched at her arm. “Ow!” She rubbed at it, locked eyes with her sister again. “He wasn’t that good of a big brother even.”

“But he was the only one we had,” Kururi said, sounding older than her years. “I miss him. He wasn’t always good, but he stayed with us when Mom and Dad couldn’t come home. He made us dinner. He let us stay up past our bedtime sometimes.”

“That’s true,” Mairu said, seeming to reconsider. She sighed, looking down at her hands. “It’s easier to pretend like he wasn’t good.” She cut her eyes up at Shizuo again who’d been feeling awkward, intruding on such a private moment. “Do you have a brother?”

It took Shizuo’s brain a moment to start back up. “Oh, yeah. I do.”

“Is he good?” she asked with honest interest, her eyes searching him again.

“Yeah,” Shizuo replied, right away that time. “I love him. I haven’t seen him in a while.” He couldn’t imagine losing Kasuka. He would be devastated. But he suspected that it might help to consider so he could try to empathize with them some.

“You should,” Kururi piped up. “You should go see him now. Don’t wait.” Shizuo could hear the strain in her voice, could see the way her eyes were going glassy. She snuffed and wiped a hand across her face a few seconds later. Mairu scooted closer to her, whispering quiet affirmations at her. Shizuo heard Izaya release a shaky breath behind him but didn’t turn to look.

“I won’t,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “You’re right.” That did some good, as Kururi calmed down a couple moments later.

Mairu held up a strong front meanwhile and changed the subject back to an article she’d been reading about color gangs. Shizuo was happy to let her talk for the time being. He wished more than anything that they could at least talk to Izaya, find some closure. He felt more tempted than he did around adults to try to explain what was happening to them for some reason, but he didn’t want to hurt them more than they already were if they thought he was lying.

A short while later he heard a car pull up outside. The girls jumped to their feet as if someone had pulled a trigger. “It’s Mom!” Mairu shouted and they stampeded off toward the front door, presumably to wait for her. Shizuo stood too and turned to seek out Izaya with little luck. He’d curled himself into shadow and was hovering around the mantle. Shizuo sighed and let him alone. 

Shizuo knew as soon as he saw Izaya’s mother where he got his looks. Her jaw and eyes were as sharp as his, and her expression was as smooth and collected. The only difference was her nose was rounder where Izaya’s had more of an angle, presumably the contribution of his father. She blinked at Shizuo when she saw him, but introduced herself soon after.

“Call me Kyoko,” she told him, offering him a smile that was painfully familiar. “The girls tell me you’re a friend of Izaya’s?” Shizuo looked for a hint of pain when she said his name but didn’t find anything.

“Yes,” he said. “Sorry for showing up suddenly, but I wanted to give my condolences.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Kyoko said, removing her shoes and setting them in a designated spot in a way that spoke of habit. She was moving toward the kitchen then, leaving him to follow after her quick stride. “I appreciate you coming all this way. You live in near Tokyo, yes?”

“He goes to college there!” Mairu announced. The two were running around their mother, more excited than he’d ever seen any kids older than seven be at the homecoming of their parents.

“Outside the city,” Shizuo corrected but no one was listening to him.

“Girls,” Kyoko said and they stopped moving. “Why don’t you let me talk to Heiwajima-kun alone for a few minutes. Go get started on your homework.” Her tone wasn’t mean but it was clear that it was an order.

Mairu shot a regretful look at Shizuo, but they both headed upstairs without another word.

“I’m sorry about them,” Kyoko said, offering him a small smile.

“It’s…no trouble, really.”

Kyoko didn’t reply but let out a heavy exhale as she started to get things down from cabinets, beginning to prepare dinner presumably. “When did you meet Izaya?”

“High school. I only knew him for three months before you guys moved.”

Kyoko nodded, considering. “I remember that. That was one of our shortest stays. It’s too bad. He didn’t make friends very easily, so it would have been nice to have stayed longer there.”

Shizuo shrugged because he didn’t know what to say. There was something intimidating about Kyoko, he thought, something that made him want to call her ma’am.

“His death was sudden,” Kyoko went on, “but not entirely unexpected. He was always getting into trouble.” Shizuo frowned, not liking how detached she sounded, but thought maybe that was her way of dealing with it. “We didn’t know where he went most of the time, but luckily the police found him the morning after it happened.”

“I’m so sorry,” Shizuo said, though he was unable to feel as much for this woman as he had for her daughters. “That must have been horrible.”

Kyoko didn’t respond, only went to go turn on the stove. It made it so Shizuo couldn’t see her face and, after being around Izaya for several weeks, he figured that was the point. When she turned back it was smooth again. “I’m glad they found him at all. That way we could have a proper funeral for him.”

That was what he’d come for but Shizuo didn’t feel accomplished in the least, especially since that more or less disproved his theory completely. “I wish I could have been there,” Shizuo said although at the time, chances were he wouldn’t have gone if someone had paid him. It was crazy how much had changed in such a short time.

Kyoko smiled at him again and it felt more genuine than the last. When she did he could see more clearly the lines by her eyes, belying her age, but he didn’t think it harmed her appearance in the least. If anything, it made her look more like a mother. “It was a small ceremony, mostly family. Like I mentioned, Izaya didn’t have many friends.”

Shizuo nodded, unsure what else to say. He couldn’t think of anything more and Kyoko was already moving like he’d left, continuing with her cooking. He didn’t understand until she turned his way and he saw the same faraway look he’d seen in Izaya’s eyes earlier.

“Well,” he said. “I’ve overstayed my welcome. I just wanted to stop by for a short time.”

Kyoko glanced up, her eyebrows pulling together. “Oh, no. You’re perfectly welcome. I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind, you can imagine.” She laughed. “But I’m sure you’re busy too. I’m afraid my husband won’t be home tonight, but if you’d like to come again and stay longer, please feel free. Let me give you my number so you can let me know ahead of time.” Shizuo opened his mouth to stop her but she was already pulling out a piece of paper and writing down numbers in clean, crisp script.

He read it over when she handed it to him, noting the address along the bottom. “I thought you might like to visit the grave,” Kyoko explained. “If you don’t, that’s fine, but feel free.”

Shizuo nodded and bowed to her slightly, grateful he hadn’t had to ask. “Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble. Thank you again for coming.” Kyoko set a hand on his arm and squeezed.

Shizuo left soon after, putting his shoes back on and stepping out. As soon as he left he felt as though a weight had been lifted simply due to being outside in the cool air. The sky was streaked red as the sun began to set and he took several deep breaths to steady himself. The heavy atmosphere he’d felt in the house wasn’t gone entirely, he realized then. Something more permanent had settled in his stomach, but he didn’t have time to identify what it was at the moment because two pairs of feet were running after him.

“Wait!” Mairu called, huffing as she ran up to him. “Don’t you want to stay longer?”

Shizuo turned, surprised to see them again. “I can’t. Not tonight.”

Kururi’s eyebrows pulled together. “But it’s getting dark out.”

Shizuo didn’t get it at first, but it hit him a few seconds later. He knelt down so he was more on their level and tried to form his face into something reassuring. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s what Iza-nii said too,” Mairu said and the silence that followed was suffocating. Shizuo shivered and it he knew it wasn’t just because it was cool out.

“I promise,” he said because he couldn’t think of anything better. “I’ll be careful.”

Mairu and Kururi exchanged a look that didn’t look convinced, but also appeared as though they were resigning themselves to his decision. “Here,” Mairu said, thrusting a piece of paper at him.

Shizuo took it, opening it and frowning when he saw more numbers.

“It’s our phone numbers,” Kururi explained.

Confusion washed over Shizuo but it was something of a nice break from how somber he’d felt for the past hour and a half.

“You gotta tell us about all the cool stuff that happens in Tokyo!” Mairu explained. “Until we can go ourselves!”

“And you can tell us when you get home safe,” Kururi added.

Shizuo looked at the paper and then back at the girls before him. There was something determined in the set of their eyes that made Shizuo feel a bit better in spite of himself. They would be okay. It would take time, but he knew it. So, even though he felt strange taking a couple of kids’ numbers, he nodded and tucked the piece of paper into his pocket.

“I will,” he said, something fond expanding in his chest as he looked at the two of them. They smiled simultaneously at him and started to bid him goodbye as he straightened back up. He paused before he left though, turned back. “It’ll get better,” he said instinctively. “I promise.”

They looked up at him with big eyes and nodded, and he wondered if this was how teachers felt all the time. It was a bit overwhelming, but also kind of nice. At least he had some experience in being an older sibling that he could apply to the situation so he wasn’t completely out of his depth.

Shizuo left for good afterward, waving at the girls one last time before he stepped out onto the street, letting the gate close behind him. Shizuo didn’t really think while he was walking back through the city, so different as the day turned dark. Everything was a blur even though his mind was extraordinarily blank. He was on another train headed for the address Kyoko had given before he knew it, like he’d blinked and it had happened.

He wasn’t sure how he felt exactly. It was too much to process at once. The first clear thing that struck him was concern that he couldn’t see Izaya anywhere. He knew, realistically, that he could only go so far away from him, unless he really had left. Maybe that had changed something. He had hardly done anything so he didn’t see how it could have, but he found himself bouncing his leg anxiously all the way to his stop nonetheless.

The gravesite wasn’t too far away, fortunately, and it was easy enough to find as it was further out in the country, away from the winding streets and noise of the city. Shizuo was glad for it. He kept his guard up as he walked, but there wasn’t anyone else around, not even Izaya. Shizuo saw why when he reached his destination.

A black swatch up against the bleeding sky, Izaya stood already in front of his family’s grave. Shizuo was relieved not only that he hadn’t had to pick his way through the crowd of grey stones to find the right one but that Izaya was there. He had no idea what to expect, but he forced himself to move forward anyway, to approach.

Izaya was ethereal in the dying light of the day, standing stock still, staring down at the grave. He didn’t turn in the least when Shizuo approached. Shizuo didn’t know what to feel looking at the grave and knowing Izaya’s remains were down there. Four of the names, three now familiar, still stood out red on the stone. There were flowers by it, beginning to wilt but not quite ready to give up their color.

“Did you have a nice time visiting with the folks?” Izaya asked and his voice was like ice.

Shizuo couldn’t bring himself to look at him yet. Instead he pressed his hands against his face, rubbing hard at his eyes.

“You’re practically part of the family now, aren’t you?” Izaya continued. “Congratulations.” Shizuo couldn’t distinguish it at first but now he heard the anger in his voice, bright and painful.

“Izaya—” Shizuo began, but was interrupted.

“Guess we can check this one off the list,” Izaya said, quick and relentless. “At least it wasn’t all for nothing. You told my sisters that pretty little lie, so maybe they’ll have that to hold onto for a while.”

Shizuo frowned, turning toward him. “It wasn’t a lie.”

“Maybe not,” Izaya said and Shizuo almost thought he believed him. “They all looked like they were doing pretty well didn’t they? Just another bump in the road. Mother dearest thinks it was my fault anyway, that I had it coming, just like you! No wonder you two got along so swimmingly.” His voice was rising and breaking as he continued and even from the side Shizuo could see the way his face was scrunching up, the way he was clenching his fists at his sides, tightening his shoulders. “Better to get it over with now.”

“She didn’t say that,” Shizuo snapped, knowing Izaya was only lashing out because he didn’t know what else to do—he’d had plenty of experience with that himself—but still feeling the need to defend the woman who was most likely still in pain from her son’s passing and doing her best to be strong and hide it for the sake of her family.

Izaya spun on him then. “She might as well have! Why are you defending her? She’s not your mother! They’re not your family!” He reached out and grabbed hold of Shizuo’s shirt then, dragging him forward and shoving him back hard. “Why do _you_ need closure? You weren’t around. You weren’t _anything_ when it happened.” Izaya hit him hard in the chest, raking his nails down as he went. It hurt but Shizuo let him do it because he didn’t know what else to do. It wasn’t like he was going to start hitting back. Not now. Because there wasn’t just anger in Izaya’s voice: there was jealousy. “Why are you the one that gets to say goodbye? Why are you the one that gets to walk in there like it’s nothing and talk to them?” Izaya’s face had crumbled completely, his voice sounding like it was getting stuck on something in the back of his throat. He clutched onto Shizuo’s shirt and just shook him then, shaking his head like he didn’t understand.

Shizuo’s chest ached horribly and guilt started to slosh around in his stomach as he watched Izaya curl into himself, dropping his head down, bringing his shoulders in. “Why…” he started but trailed off on what sounded like a sob. He shoved Shizuo away, almost knocking him back down the hill they were standing on and spun around again, kicking hard at the grave.

“Izaya,” Shizuo said, low and wary.

The other man spun and Shizuo froze where he was. If looks could kill, he thought, he’d be dead on his feet. It was a warning, and Shizuo heeded it, not saying anything else.

Izaya broke down truly after that, smashing his face into his hands and choking out little hiccups of sobs. His whole body shook like it was trying to shatter apart and he collapsed down next to the grave eventually, curling up smaller. It took all the strength Shizuo had not to go immediately to him, but he forced himself to wait, figuring it would only make things worse. He waited until Izaya quieted down some to finally bend down next to him and pull him back to him. Izaya went willingly enough, falling into him, letting Shizuo support his weight.

Shizuo fought to keep it together himself. This wasn’t about him, and he could figure out his own feelings about it all later. For now, he had to fix this the best he could. “I’m sorry,” he said, knowing it was lame, but there wasn’t much else left. “I didn’t know this would happen. I never meant…”

Izaya sighed, and when he spoke his voice was scratchy and tired. “I know. You’re too good, Shizuo. I don’t understand it. You have no obligation to do this, to do anything for me, and yet here you are.” Shizuo felt him shake his head against his chest, sniffing.

“Doesn’t matter if I do,” Shizuo said, starting to rub at his back again. This time Izaya didn’t move away. He didn't know if he agreed with Izaya's first statement, but he knew it wasn't the right time to argue it. “I wouldn’t want anyone to go through this shit alone.”

“If our positions were reversed I wouldn’t do the same for you,” Izaya said and the hushed way it came out made it sound like a confession. “You know I wouldn’t.”

Shizuo thought if their positions were reversed the people who had stabbed him would most definitely be six-feet under by now, if only to make sure that wasn’t what had to happen. But he wasn’t so sure. He looked off across the sea of gravestones, most fading away into the night which had arrived by that point, falling heavy over them. It was freezing but he hardly noticed. “I don’t care.”

“You did it before too,” Izaya muttered and Shizuo had no idea what he was talking about. “You don’t remember it, but we met before high school.”

Shizuo frowned, scanning his memory and wondering if Izaya was tricking him, but his voice was serious and quiet. “…we did?”

Izaya laughed quietly and even if the sound was raw, it was nice to hear. “I think you were on vacation. It was at some bathroom in a restaurant and you walked in on me playing around with a knife I’d stolen from our table. I’d managed to slice open my arm somehow and I almost got you too before you took it away and started yelling at me to be more careful.”

As Izaya spoke, something scratched at Shizuo’s mind. He couldn’t tell if the memory was real or if it was a false one created by Izaya’s words, but he thought he remembered something like that. The timeline was right. When he was seven or so his family had gone on a short vacation and they’d eaten at a really nice restaurant one night. He’d had to go to the bathroom and insisted he could do it by himself, so his mother let him go. Then he’d walked in on this scrawny kid playing around with a knife and, full of the self-importance and confidence of a child allowed to go pee on their own, he’d started telling him off.

Shizuo remembered being freaked out when the kid showed him the blood dripping from his arm, how he’d gotten a paper towel and tried to patch it up while the kid looked on in silence. He’d never connected that event with Izaya.

“That was you?” Shizuo asked, incredulous. His mind really couldn’t take much more and this really wasn’t helping.

Izaya laughed again and it sounded fuller. “So you do remember?”

“Yeah, I think.” Shizuo shook his head. “I never knew that was you. What the fuck were you doing with a knife?”

“Who knows. I was a pretty fucked up kid. My parents were around a lot less before Mairu and Kururi were born so I was alone a lot. I might have stabbed myself to death then and there if you hadn’t stopped me.”

Shizuo felt a flash of anger rush through him and he shoved Izaya back so he could look him in the eye. “Don’t say shit like that.”

Izaya offered him a small wavering smile. His eyes were puffy still from crying, tired but wide open, and he shrugged. “It’s true.”

Shizuo squeezed him back up against him again for lack of any other way to retaliate. “I’m glad I stopped you.”

“Didn’t matter much in the end, but I suppose you did buy me another few years. Maybe that’s what happened. We made a blood pact and didn’t even know it.”

Shizuo rolled his eyes. Izaya was childish at the strangest moments. “It mattered. What the fuck did I tell you yesterday? You need to start listening when I talk.”

“I know,” Izaya murmured. “Especially if we’re going to be stuck together for the rest of eternity which it looks like we might be.”

Shizuo glanced over at the grave again, reached a hand out and ran it along the smooth stone, his thumb rubbing over the characters spelling out Izaya’s name. “We’ll figure something out,” he said, even if, at the moment, he couldn’t remember why they were trying to fix this in the first place. The last thing he wanted to do was let Izaya go.

“Between your optimism and your nice streak sometimes you’re truly unbearable to be around, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, moving so his face was tucked into Shizuo’s neck and he could feel his lips move. “I thought I’d let you know that.”

Shizuo had a list of his own, but it didn’t really matter to him at the moment. He stayed where he was for another couple of minutes before he slowly started to move, standing both of them up, mostly because his fingers were numb but also because a graveyard at night wasn’t a place he really wanted to be. Izaya stood when urged and got up off his feet as soon as he did, hovering, casting another look back down at the grave.

“I’m down there with everyone else now,” he muttered.

Shizuo frowned. “No. Your body’s down there. You’re here.”

Izaya didn’t reply, only ran his thumb across his name.

“I wasn’t lying to your sisters,” Shizuo said because it was still bugging him. “It will get better. But you’ve got to deal with it to get over it.”

Izaya laughed and turned away finally, setting off back down toward the street where some lights had flicked on automatically, casting the street in an eerie glow. “Your friend should watch her back. You’re a therapist in the making if I ever saw one.”

Shizuo glanced down at the grave one more time himself before he started down after him. Izaya could say what he wanted, but he knew he was right. This might have been hard, but it was necessary.

They managed to catch the last train back. It was mostly empty and Izaya leaned against him the whole way home, not saying anything. Shizuo didn’t mind the silence. It was nice after everything that happened to listen to sounds of the train and stare out the window, watching the stars blur past.

Shizuo had enough mind left to be quiet as they went inside, but it turned out to not be a problem. Celty wasn’t there, probably staying over at Shinra’s. Izaya noticed and Shizuo wondered if that would give him ideas but all he did was collapse onto Shizuo’s bed face-first, not moving as Shizuo undressed, got ready for bed. Shizuo didn’t try to move him, only climbed in next to him and flicked off the light. It’d been a long day for both of them. Having one quiet night didn’t seem like too much to ask.


	11. Chapter 11

Izaya knew it was stupid lie in a bed all night when he couldn’t actually sleep but he decided he didn’t care. He was exhausted beyond anything he had ever felt before and Shizuo’s mattress was soft if nothing else, and the quiet background noise of Shizuo’s rhythmic, predictable breaths was strangely comforting. Izaya even tolerated it when Shizuo slung his heavy arm over him at one point and drug him closer. He didn’t mind taking advantage of his warmth.

He mostly spent the time trying to get his thoughts in order. Two breakdowns—he didn’t like the word, but he was being honest with himself—in two days was a little much if you asked him. Sure, all this was emotional, but that was quite enough. Now that it was over and what had happened had, he could take time to sift through the rubble, see what was left.

Whenever he closed his eyes he saw his sister’s faces. Not so much his mother but that was probably because her mask was as impenetrable as ever. He’d learned from the best, after all. He’d been doing his best not to think about them going on with their lives, but he supposed he needed to learn to fit it in as part of his reality. He knew he hadn’t been the best to them, but he wasn’t the one who’d decided to have little twin girls almost a decade after he’d been born.

They were still young, hadn’t had enough time to build up a real grudge against him, and in a guilty way he was glad for it. He remembered Shizuo’s promise to text them about an hour after the other man had fallen asleep and ended up getting up to root around for Shizuo’s phone to complete the task himself. He knew Shizuo’s password by then anyway.

The phone lit up, blinding in the dark room, and Izaya quickly added the new contacts, shaking his head at Shizuo who snuffled in his sleep. He had to do everything himself. [I wanted to let you know I got home safely.] Izaya typed and then went back to delete the punctuation and capitalization, figuring it was too proper to come off as Shizuo, especially if he decided to keep texting them.

[what took you so long ???? we were about to call the police!!] came the immediate response.

Izaya rolled his eyes. [i had to take a shower]

[you should have texted us first!!]

[shouldn’t you two be in bed?]

There was a suspicious pause after that one and Izaya wondered if his mother had found that they were up and taken their phone away. He doubted it. They were good at sneaking around and she’d probably headed back to work after their father came home for the night. Some of the time he’d “let them stay up” had been because he hadn’t realized they were still up in the first place. Admittedly he wasn’t the best babysitter, but it also wasn’t a job he’d asked for, nor one he got paid for, so the quality of service varied night to night and with his own mood.

[we were waiting up for you, obviously]

Izaya shook his head. He could almost hear Mairu’s petulant voice in his ear. [go to sleep now. i’m fine.]

Another pause and then [good night] which he assumed meant Kururi had wrested the phone away from her sibling. Izaya snapped Shizuo’s shut and set it aside. His mind quieted down some after that. He contemplated texting them again, telling them it was him, but they probably wouldn’t believe him. They liked strange things, but they weren’t stupid. He didn’t feel much like playing around with them anyway.

Izaya flopped back down next to Shizuo, pressing up against his back to try to regain his warmth. He knew logically that Shizuo hadn’t done anything wrong and he shouldn’t have reacted the way he did, not only because it exposed so blatantly how he might not be holding up as well as he would have liked to be, but because it was bound to earn him another lecture about anger management from the most ironic teacher in the world. He’d been surprised when it hadn’t come, almost impressed by the way Shizuo had handled things.

He really was maturing, growing up from the angry boy he’d met in high school to someone who took a breath before he did something stupid. That didn’t necessarily mean he’d stop doing idiotic things entirely—the whole day had been proof of that—but it was a start. Izaya truly couldn’t comprehend why Shizuo had placed himself as the support for the situation they were in, holding it up and together when it would have crumbled long ago without his efforts since Izaya often thought it would be better to just let it fall already.

Maybe he should have expected it. He knew from experience that Shizuo was relentlessly loyal and tended to stick his foot in doors that were being slammed shut even when he knew it would hurt if he thought there was a good reason it should stay open. He’d been that way since he was young, clearly.

Izaya wasn’t surprised Shizuo didn’t remember what had happened when they were younger. He had no one certain idea why it had stuck in his mind so vividly, but he suspected it had something to do with the fact that his own parents hadn’t come after him to see where he’d gone, if he was okay, probably would have noticed the missing cutlery before they noticed him, and along came this other boy acting like he was the only thing that mattered at the moment. Shizuo had stopped him even though there was no reason for him to care what happened to Izaya, at least in his eyes. He’d learned that night that not everyone acted or thought the way his parents did, and that rationality wasn’t everyone’s top priority.

He’d gone after Shizuo in high school, sought him out, made it so their paths crossed again and again out of intrigue mostly, to see how that little boy had turned out, and he hadn’t been disappointed. After their second interaction however, he’d never expected Shizuo’s charity to be directed toward him again. But Shizuo was stubborn and strong, stronger than he’d expected, and certainly stronger than he was. It was annoying, but true.

_He’s braver too_ , he thought. To the point of recklessness, sure, but it was an admirable trait.

They were all the reasons Izaya had hated him in the first place. Because he could do something, could be something Izaya couldn’t, and then he acted like it was nothing or disregarded it, acting like it was all worthless.

But now, after everything that had happened, Izaya couldn’t muster the same level of ire against him.

_The afterlife’s making you sentimental_ , he thought at himself, and it probably was, but it had something to do with the fact that he didn’t have much else to lose. Shizuo was pulling and he didn’t have much choice other than to go along, but he was realizing that resisting, fighting back against that tug wasn’t worth it, and that going along for the ride wasn’t the worst thing ever.

Maybe that was why when the sun started seeping in through the cracks in the blinds and Shizuo started to stir Izaya leaned over and pressed his lips softly against Shizuo’s, more of a brush than anything else. He wanted to see what he’d do, he told himself. He was tired of laying around and thinking.

Shizuo’s lips twitched but he didn’t do much else so Izaya tried again, harder, and that seemed to wake him up. Izaya put on a smirk, but Shizuo ignored it. Instead, he sat up, rolling over and arching up over Izaya so he could kiss him back. Shizuo’s mouth was warm and he kissed Izaya like he was trying to make a point.

Izaya looped his arms up around Shizuo’s neck, dragging him closer, not minding the weight on top of him that much. Shizuo broke off to kiss at his neck a couple of time, right under his jaw, and Izaya laughed, mostly because he still looked half asleep. When he came back up, Izaya opened his mouth and Shizuo took the invitation wordlessly, bearing down like he was trying to steal any air he might have had in his lungs. It made Izaya squirm, digging his nails into his skin harder to hold on, but Shizuo didn’t flinch.

Izaya was beginning to wonder if this was ever going to progress into something else when the front door opened and Shizuo pulled back. His face was flushed a bright pink, his breathing was heavy, and his hair was still tousled from sleep. Izaya ran a hand through it to mess it up further. That drew Shizuo’s attention back to him for a moment until there was a knock on the door. Shizuo moved then, getting up off of him. Izaya sighed but didn’t move. There was no point.

“Yeah, Celty, I’m home,” Shizuo called. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

That seemed to satisfy her for the time being and he heard footsteps headed away from the door. Shizuo stood up and started getting dressed. Izaya was annoyed at being interrupted, especially when he’d been enjoying that little distraction he’d manufactured for himself so much. Shizuo at least paused before he went out to give him a complicated look that was mostly confusion, but didn’t say anything other than, “Be good.”

Izaya laughed and went to follow him out. He wasn’t a dog. Shizuo still looked well-kissed, but Izaya wasn’t going to be the one to point that out to him. He’d let his roommate draw her own conclusions.

Conversation at breakfast was boring save for another mention of the whole “long-distance boyfriend” story Shizuo had concocted which still made Izaya snicker. The rest of the day wasn’t better aside from the morning interlude. Shizuo realized a day late that missing a whole day of school after already being distracted for a week meant he had a lot of work to catch up on and sat himself at his desk to get it done with surprising focus.

The only break was when he asked abruptly, “So you want to explain what that was this morning?”

Izaya decided to shrug it off. “I was bored. Not being able to sleep gives you a lot of spare time.”

Shizuo turned to fix his gaze on him for a few long moments. Izaya smiled at him, not really liking how inscrutable his expression was. Shizuo shot a few more similar looks his way throughout the day to the point where Izaya started to ignore him. Between the quiet and the studious atmosphere it was easy to get lost in his thoughts and in his memories, which he did.

He thought through what his mother had said, what his sisters had, and thought about what he might say back to them now, if he was given the chance. It was a hypothetical exercise and thus not particularly helpful, but it gave him something to do. He thought about writing it down, but decided it was enough to have it in his mind. It wasn’t anyone else’s to know or read anyway.

Visiting the family grave seemed inevitable now that he thought about it, but it hadn’t done much else for him besides cementing in his mind how permanent all of this felt: his present state, the restrictions he couldn’t control that had been placed upon him. He didn’t feel any draw to it. It looked like the same piece of stone he remembered when he’d gone to visit it before when his grandparents had died. Back then he’d thought to himself that this was what humans had if they had nothing else. Even if they didn’t have children, if they didn’t accomplish anything of note, they had their name on a rock surrounded by thousands of others who hadn’t amounted to much.

He’d thought to himself that he wouldn’t need it. That someday he’d come along and scratch his name off because it wasn’t necessary. He’d leave his own impression, one that wasn’t tied to his family but was entirely of his own making.

It made him feel naïve, left a bitter taste in his mouth. That was about all he had left now. A rock. Or two rocks, if he counted Shizuo who certainly acted like one sometimes.

He left Izaya to his thoughts for the rest of that day which wasn’t much of a favor even if he thought that it was. Izaya would think of a way to get him back for it, but later. It seemed like he had all the time in the world anyway. Shizuo made dinner with his roommate and Izaya moved ingredients around when they weren’t looking which got a bit of a rise out of Shizuo if nothing else. It didn’t last though. It was one of the reasons he’d stopped playing around with him so much in the first place. The brief moments of distraction it brought weren’t worth much in the long run and had gotten tedious quickly.

Eventually the day came crawling to a close with Shizuo getting ready for bed much like the night before. Izaya hardly noticed until Shizuo finally spoke to him.

“You okay?”

Izaya blinked, turning so he could face the other man who was already seated on his bed, looking obnoxiously concerned. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Shizuo gave him a dubious look. “You haven’t said anything all day.”

“You were busy. And besides, I was thinking.”

“That hasn’t stopped you before.” Shizuo exhaled and looked down at his feet, then back up at Izaya. “Look, I’m trying to give you some space because I thought that’s what you would want after yesterday, but if it’s not you gotta tell me.”

Izaya raised his eyebrows high. “I’m _fine_ , Shizu-chan. Stop worrying. You’re not my mother.”

Shizuo still didn’t look convinced but it appeased him for the time being. He settled down, sank back into sleep after some time of turning over, leaving one side of the bed conspicuously empty. Izaya waited for him to be fully unconscious before he took advantage of it. He felt drained, wrung out and empty. He’d burned through what anger or other more volatile emotions had risen within him, had sat through the sorrow and the other quiet ones, and while he was sure this wasn’t the end of it by any means, he was ready to get on with it.

The only problem was he wasn’t sure where to go from there. Maybe he could focus on thinking up a way out of this, but that hadn’t gone so well the first time. He felt oddly lost, without purpose, not that he believed in things like fate, but he’d always been able to give purpose to his own life and now he had to learn how to do that again while being shackled down like he was. In the end he decided it was a task for another night and picked up one of the books Shizuo had lying around for a distraction.

The next morning Shizuo was up and throwing things around like he had someplace to be even though it was still early and also Sunday. He only paused to question if Izaya was reading his biology textbook to which he replied, “Of course.” Then Shizuo was off again, out the door and headed toward the train station without another word.

“Where are you going?” Izaya finally asked, annoyed at being left in the dark.

Shizuo wouldn’t answer him, wouldn’t speak until they got on a line going north and then not even about the right thing. “Thanks for texting your sisters back the other night,” he muttered. “I’d forgotten about it completely.”

Izaya blinked, frowning at Shizuo. “Well, I know better than anyone how they can get.”

Then there was more silence. Izaya didn’t appreciate being dragged around but Shizuo wouldn’t budge. Luckily it didn’t take long to figure it out. It seemed as if Shizuo was taking them back into the city proper for some reason. While Izaya didn’t mind he didn’t see what all the secrecy was about or what Shizuo was doing in the first place.

“Do you need to buy something?” Izaya tried.

Shizuo had stepped out of the train station and set off in a direction, winding expertly through the crowd. Izaya chose to float above them. He didn’t like being walked through. “No.”

A few minutes later Izaya was considering tripping him or something along those lines. Shizuo was laser focused, walking at quick clip wherever he was going, ignoring the commotion of the city around him. “No one likes surprises, Shizu-chan.”

That worked a little. He frowned. “Lots of people like surprises.”

“I don’t,” Izaya replied. Unless he was the one setting them up. Not knowing things got on his nerves which explained easily why this situation was such a pain in his ass.

Shizuo just kept walking.

They arrived at their apparent destination soon after: an extremely tall building that was dressed up like more of a tourist attraction than the others around it which were reserved for businesses. Izaya was hit with a new wave of questions but Shizuo didn’t flinch. He paid a small fee to go in and headed straight for the elevator instead of mingling with the few other people inside looking at the museum-like displays set around detailing the history of the building and this section of the city.

Izaya contemplated letting him go up alone but figured the building was too tall and he’d be pulled along eventually. “Enigmatic doesn’t suit you well,” Izaya told him after the elevator doors shut.

Shizuo punched the button for the top floor and shrugged. “You’re just impatient.”

They went up, up, all the way up to the top of the building. A voice explained to them some more history as they went from the PA system, but Izaya didn’t pay attention. Soon enough the doors opened and revealed a viewing floor. The top of the building had been lined with windows all around so one could look out on the city from above from 360 degrees. It was a cloudy day, but overcast enough that the whole thing had a dull glow to it.

Izaya momentarily forgot about Shizuo and went over to look out across it.

Everything looked so small. He thought he must have done something like this before, but it had been years and normal sized buildings didn’t compare. The whole thing looked like one big circuit board, he thought. He gripped hard onto the railing that made it so people wouldn’t lean on the glass and took in the view.

It was fantastic.

He noticed Shizuo leaning up beside him a few minutes later but he was staring at him rather than out the window. “Care to explain?” Izaya asked, turning so he could look straight at Shizuo who, to his delight, flushed slightly.

“I just…” He ran hand through his hair and looked out himself. “You liked coming here last time so I thought it’d cheer you up if we went again. I remembered coming up here with my family when I was really little and thought it’d be something you’d like.”

Something started fluttering around in Izaya’s chest that he didn’t recognize. He felt overwhelmingly surprised and strangely grateful to Shizuo. He was at a loss for words as to how to respond. Part of him was put off by how cheesy this was, but he elected to ignore it. “I do,” he finally said, looking back out the window.

He still caught Shizuo’s smile out of the corner of his eye.

The morning went on and more people came up to the viewing area making it so they had to fall silent, but Izaya didn’t mind. He didn’t know how long they stayed up there, long enough surely for Shizuo to get bored, but the other man made no protest, only turned and left when Izaya did a while later.

“It’d be so much different at night,” Izaya commented. He didn’t feel half as empty as he had that morning. There was so much going on and being able to see it all from above made him feel more in control than he had in weeks. For the first time in a while he felt content.

They’d stopped at the café in the building at Shizuo’s request to get something to eat. Shizuo sat them by another window automatically. Izaya didn’t really know what to do with the feeling in his chest that wouldn’t go away, but he had a few ideas as to how to repay Shizuo and spend the rest of the afternoon.

“We can come back sometime,” Shizuo suggested. “It’s not that hard to get here. I don’t mind getting off of campus sometimes.” He paused to take a bite of his food, but it was a pregnant sort of pause. The concern was back in his eyes when he glanced up. “Are you…doing better? After Friday I mean.”

“Yes,” Izaya said and Shizuo looked shocked to hear a straight answer. He shifted immediately into being suspicious because of it. It was familiar and it made Izaya grin. “I’m serious. I’m not made of glass.”

“I know that,” he grumbled, taking another bite. “But this shit’s not easy and it takes time. You’re not the most patient person I know.”

“What, and you are?” Izaya laughed when Shizuo frowned at him. “I know it will. Shizu-chan’s so paranoid.”

“Probably has something to do with this ghost that keeps haunting me.”

Izaya smirked. “I don’t know. What’s his side of the story? He doesn’t sound so bad.”

Shizuo scoffed. “Arrogant bastard.”

If Shizuo felt it was okay to insult him, he must have believed him somewhat. It made Izaya feel better, settling into a more familiar groove, even as his mind was still set on what would happen when they got back.

Shizuo finished and asked Izaya if he wanted to stay longer, walk around. Izaya declined which made Shizuo eye him, but they got on the train anyway. The sky was already darkening by the time they got back. Winter had stripped the land bare and was asserting its presence more than ever. Izaya wouldn’t have been surprised if the snow came to stay soon. It was strange, since summer felt like yesterday, but so did when he’d been alive.

Izaya waited for Shizuo to open the door and let him in first before he asked, “Is Celty home?”

Shizuo blinked, completely ignorant, and shook his head. “She’s visiting a friend who lives nearby today. That’s why I left without telling her—”

Izaya yanked him inside by his collar, kicked the door shut and shoved him up against it, colliding their lips together. Shizuo grabbed onto him, pulled their bodies flush up against each other. One of his hands ventured down, squeezing at his ass before he reached further to pull his leg up. Izaya complied, trying not to laugh while Shizuo fumbled to kiss him back.

Izaya was running his hands up inside Shizuo’s shirt and working on getting his tongue into his mouth when Shizuo gasped and pulled back. Izaya bit his neck as punishment. “What are you doing?”

Izaya thought it was pretty clear, but he supposed he’d answer anyway, pulling back to look Shizuo right in the eye. “I’m thanking you.”

Shizuo didn’t question it again, leaning down to kiss him hard, hands everywhere. Izaya ground down against him eagerly. This had been a long time coming in his opinion. It’d been too long and this proved Shizuo was getting as anxious about it as he had.

Shizuo backed them all the way inside his bedroom soon after, pushing Izaya down onto the mattress and climbing on top of him in a familiar position. Izaya leaned up to recapture his lips, arching up off the bed as he did and more or less rubbing against Shizuo again. To his delight it made Shizuo growl and start pushing up his shirt. Izaya didn’t stop him this time, only lifted his arms when he needed to and let Shizuo toss it off across the room.

He kissed Izaya one more time on the mouth before he dipped down lower, trailing off down his neck and chest, leaving spots of blossoming warmth in his wake. Izaya pushed up against him and was rewarded by Shizuo pausing to lick and bite at his nipples. He dug his hands into Shizuo’s hair and hissed, but it didn’t deter Shizuo from tonguing at him. Arousal pooled heavily in his stomach but Shizuo took his time.

Something ached in Izaya’s chest when Shizuo paused to mouth at the scar on his side, running his fingers over it. Izaya let out a whine without thinking about it and it drew Shizuo’s eyes up. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“Nothing hurts me,” Izaya reminded him, letting his head fall back. Shizuo moved back up, shifting so he could kiss his neck, running his teeth up the line of throat.

“Then how can you feel this?” Shizuo asked, his eyebrows pulling together.

“I don’t know,” Izaya said, exasperated because the other man had stopped. “I didn’t get a guidebook explaining how it all works. I just know it feels warm when you touch me.”

“I thought you couldn’t feel hot or cold,” Shizuo said.

Izaya was too restless to care about keeping it to himself any longer. “Only when you touch me,” he said in a rush, pushing his hips up again. “I don’t know why, but it’s only ever you.”

Shizuo caught his gaze and held it, his eyes searching and hungry, before he was catching his lips again, pushing his tongue into Izaya’s mouth and holding onto either side of his face. Izaya pushed up into it, his hands wandering down Shizuo’s back in the meantime.

They both stripped all the way down soon after, shoving the fabric which had become nothing more than a barrier aside. After it was off however, Shizuo slowed back down. Izaya spread his legs so he could settle between them and Shizuo pushed one of them up, bending so he could kiss along the inside of his thigh back down to his navel. Izaya huffed, taking in the way it made his skin tingle. He wasn’t used to being touched so gently, so meticulously and he didn’t know what to do with the way it made him feel. He only knew that he didn’t particularly want Shizuo to stop.

Izaya groaned louder than he’d expected to when Shizuo touched his cock, urging him into hardness. It felt like an electric shock, much the same way it had been the first time. Izaya still didn’t quite understand how it worked beyond suspecting that Shizuo had some way of activating his blood flow when he touched him. It sounded convoluted even in his mind however, so he tried not to think about it too much and just revel in the fact that it could work at all.

Shizuo rubbed his thumb over the head, playing with the slit and running his hand back down the length. Izaya pushed himself up on his elbows so he could take hold of Shizuo’s cock in return, feeling its weight and heat in his hand. It knocked Shizuo’s breath out and he dropped his head down, shoving into Izaya’s grip. He met Izaya’s lips in a glancing sort of kiss when he leaned up for one.

Shizuo grabbed hold of the lotion they’d used before which was in a convenient enough location nearby, Izaya noted, and almost dropped it in his haste. His desperation showed through in his frantic movements and in the way he was biting his lip as he squeezed some of it into his hand, and it only spurred on Izaya’s own.

“Hurry,” he muttered without thinking, spreading his legs further for Shizuo. He wasn’t surprised when one finger after another went in easily enough. The times before this had been messy, rushed, a brief urge dutifully fulfilled, but this was different. Izaya didn’t know how exactly, but he _wanted_ this in a way he hadn’t before. Shizuo’s fingers were helping, rubbing and twisting and opening him up, but they weren’t enough and he was tired of waiting. He was tired of analyzing things, sitting around with only his thoughts to keep him company. It was time to make the best of his current situation. He was moving on and this was what it looked like.

“Fuck,” Shizuo said, pushing in a third finger and starting to pump them. Izaya pushed up into the intrusion, encouraging him to speed up. It worked and Izaya bit back another sound that threatened to rip loose from his throat. Izaya ran his hands up along the broadness of Shizuo’s chest meanwhile, exploring and grounding himself in the same vein.

“That’s enough,” Izaya insisted when he was sure he had control over his voice back. He felt lightheaded and like if he didn’t concentrate hard enough he might accidentally start floating. His mind was completely blank, overwhelmed entirely by his own desire and he loved it.

Shizuo nodded and eased his fingers out, glancing up from where he’d been watching. Izaya searched around and found purchase on the lotion, holding it out to him, trying not to shake it in his face. Shizuo took it but then froze. “Shit.”

“What?” Izaya demanded, not liking that Shizuo’s hands were nowhere on his body currently.

“I still don’t have a condom.”

Izaya rolled his eyes at the ceiling, reaching up to pull on Shizuo’s hair. “Shizuo, you can’t get me pregnant. I’m dead. I didn’t care last time and I don’t care this time.”

Shizuo looked him over carefully but appeared to take his word for it, going to slick himself up. When he was finished Izaya did his best not to tense in anticipation, but all Shizuo did was lean forward, making it so his cock rubbed up against Izaya’s entrance. He bit at Izaya’s neck rather than pushing inside. Izaya keened, squirming below him, but he didn’t budge. “You don’t look dead,” Shizuo said, his voice low and breathless in a way that made Izaya shiver. “You look gorgeous.”

Izaya thought he felt his cock throb in spite of itself and when he laughed it sounded a bit hysterical. “You just don’t want to admit that you’re turning into a card-carrying necrophiliac.” 

Shizuo must have been too aroused to get annoyed which was sort of amazing and only bit harder at Izaya’s jugular. “Shut up, Izaya.”

It was cliché but a “Make me” slipped out and it did the trick. Izaya threw his head back when Shizuo entered him, reaching up to grab on tight to Shizuo’s shoulders. He was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open but he didn’t care. The stretch was incredible and so was the way Shizuo was looking at him, like he was everything he wanted. Izaya basked in it. He felt like he was on fire from the inside, but he wanted nothing more than to burn.

Shizuo gave him a moment to adjust this time but started moving soon enough, slow but firm in his strokes, making Izaya’s whole body shake from the force. He was groaning too and Izaya drank in the sounds, reconnecting their lips, intoxicated by Shizuo’s taste. Shizuo gradually sped up, taking one of Izaya’s legs and pushing it up over his shoulder he did. It gave him a better angle and Izaya shouted as they discovered his prostate was apparently still intact and doing just fine. Shizuo wrapped his hand back around Izaya’s cock and aimed for that same spot after that.

Between the dual friction and his own longing for this and Shizuo who kept whispering husky praises in his ear, Izaya was coming sooner than he’d expected, shuddering hard and groaning out Shizuo’s name and sounds that were probably supposed to be words but didn’t come out that way, losing track of everything but the heat that seemed to be surrounding him. He melted into it as he came down from his high, vaguely aware of Shizuo stuttering to a halt, gripping hard to his hips as he orgasmed.

Shizuo pressed his face into Izaya’s neck, his breath heavy and hot against his skin as he pulled out and fell onto his side, pulling Izaya into him as he went. Izaya went although he had to be dragged since he still didn’t feel much like moving. He felt safe and sated and that was good enough for him.

Izaya started kissing and nipping at Shizuo’s neck a short while later when he realized that was what he’d been pressing his face against mostly because he liked to leave marks there. Shizuo let him for a minute before he drew him up and kissed him properly, softer than before, running his thumb down along Izaya’s jaw. He sighed when he pulled back. 

“I think I might be screwed,” Shizuo muttered and there was something hesitant about his tone that Izaya didn’t understand.

“Isn’t that my line?” Izaya joked, nudging under his jaw again.

“I’m serious.” He paused and Izaya felt his fingers curl in tighter against his back. “I think...that I’m falling in love with you.”

Izaya’s first instinct was to laugh but he choked it back. He pulled away to look at Shizuo who met his eyes warily, probably expecting the laugh to come. Izaya tried to school his expression into neutrality but didn’t know if he succeeded. Panic and confusion and disbelief struck him in equal parts and he froze.

His own words were echoing back from what felt like years ago—“You could always try to fall in love with me”—mocking, obnoxious. “That’s funny, Shizu-chan,” he finally settled on, doubting Shizuo would make such a joke but willing to try it.

Shizuo frowned. “I’m not kidding.”

Izaya broke off the eye contact, looking off across the room. “You just think that because you had sex with me. It’s the endorphins telling you that. It’ll pass.”

“Izaya,” Shizuo said, his voice steady, resigned almost. Izaya looked back up. “I’m being serious.”

Izaya felt a burst of irritation toward Shizuo for making this more complicated than it needed to be right after he thought he’d sorted it out and more than anything he wanted to put some distance between them, to get away from this, but he felt rooted to the bed, his mind racing.

Shizuo coughed a laugh and looked away and there was disappointment, even hurt in his eyes. “Guess you’re not gonna say it back, huh?”

Izaya frowned, shook his head. “Why?” he asked and that made Shizuo laugh again.

“Might as well ask me why all of this is happening in the first place,” he muttered. He wasn’t letting go of Izaya still, wasn’t pulling back. “I know it’s stupid. I’m surprised you’re not making fun of me right now actually.”

“I thought about it,” Izaya admitted.

Shizuo kicked at his leg, but the tension between them remained, hanging heavy in the air. “Would it be so bad?” Shizuo asked after a short pause. “What if we are stuck like this forever?”

“Why do we have to label it?” Izaya asked. “Isn’t it better like this?”

“Not admitting it’s there won’t make it go away,” Shizuo said, and he did push him away a little then. He seemed to catch sight of something in Izaya’s eyes when he looked even when Izaya flicked them away seconds later. “What are you so afraid of?”

Izaya thought of the warmth and the fluttering in his chest and how he’d been thinking he didn’t even care anymore if he had to be stuck where he was a while longer and how he’d finally thought he had control over the things he’d been feeling, and wondered how he hadn’t noticed. All at once he felt horribly vulnerable.

Shizuo sighed when he didn’t answer. “I didn’t mean to…” He squeezed his eyes shut, pressed his fist against his forehead.

Izaya extracted himself and Shizuo let him go, but he didn’t do anything but sit on the side of the bed and stare the wall, digging his nails into his palms and letting the heat dissipate away from his skin. He knew how easy it would be to give in and that was exactly why it was so terrifying.

“What would you tell everyone?” Izaya asked, keeping his voice low. “What would you tell your friends? Your family? No one can see me but you, Shizuo. It’s not realistic.”

It sounded like Shizuo sat up behind him. The bed shifted below. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I don’t know if you do,” Izaya snapped, turning so he could face him. “I’m _dead_ , Shizuo. Half the time you don’t pay attention to me because you don’t want people thinking you’re crazy. I can’t go anywhere, I can’t do anything, and you can’t get rid of me. Stockholm Syndrome isn’t romantic. There’s no set of circumstances where this works out.”

“I _know_ , Izaya,” Shizuo huffed. “Look, I didn’t _mean_ for this to happen. It’s not something I can control.”

Izaya scoffed, tried to turn away, but Shizuo pulled him back hard by his shoulder or tried to. Izaya made it so his hand went through and Shizuo yanked it back.

Shizuo snapped his teeth shut and groaned. “For someone so smart you sure are dumb about stuff like this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Izaya felt like he was falling, like his head wouldn’t stop spinning.

“You can’t stop feeling a certain way just because you want to,” Shizuo argued, indignant. “That’s not how it works.”

“Because you’ve been in love with so many people in your life,” Izaya shot back even though he couldn’t feel his legs anymore.

“And you have?” Shizuo was shouting but it felt like he was miles away. “You think I want to feel like this? This is why I didn’t tell you in the first place, but after today I thought—” He cut off, but Izaya wasn’t listening because he could barely hear him.

Everything was going dark and he was in freefall. It felt like he was unravelling, losing track of everything, even himself. It went beyond numbness. It wasn’t that he couldn’t feel, it was that he didn’t exist to be able to feel anything. A profound fear gripped him, far beyond the anxiety he’d felt after Shizuo’s declaration, and he was struck by a terrible chill like nothing he’d ever felt before.

Izaya was drowning, sinking away, but in the midst of it all, he realized what was happening, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

_You could try to fall in love with me_.

Maybe this was what he deserved after all. The universe truly was a cruel mistress and not a very creative one either.

Izaya thought he should have expected as much.

What he didn’t expect was to hear a voice; what he didn’t expect was to wake back up.


	12. Chapter 12

Shizuo was angry and embarrassed and confused, but all of heat in his body flashed cold when he realized what was happening. Izaya was dissolving, fading out, falling away, and all at once he was gone. Shizuo blinked, glancing around in a panic. “Izaya? Izaya! This isn’t funny!”

But he couldn’t see anything. Not a shadow, not a trace of him. Dread seeped through his veins like poison and he swore he felt his heart stop. “Izaya!” he shouted to no one. His own voice echoed back at him around the empty apartment. “Izaya!” he sounded frantic and desperate but he couldn’t help it.

He thought he should have been prepared for this somehow, but part of him knew he never could have been. Still, he hadn’t expected it to be so sudden. One second he was there and the next he was gone and Shizuo felt like someone had pushed him down a flight of stairs.

Shizuo kept looking around, feeling like an idiot, but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t believe it. After all that, that was all it had taken. No warning, no nothing. He was gone.

The shock kept him from breaking down completely but he pressed his face into his hands, trying to stop the room from spinning. It fucking figured that the last thing he’d say to him would be something angry and thoughtless. His ears were ringing so much that he didn’t even hear it at first.

“Shizuo?”

At first he thought he was hearing things, that his mind was adding insult to injury, but he was dumb enough to uncover his eyes anyway and he ended up glad he did. There was a blur of shadow, achingly familiar, and hope lit up in him like a dangerous drug. “Izaya?”

His voice was faint like he was shouting across a large stadium, but it was there. “Shizuo!”

And then all at once he was back like a light bulb that had blinked out for only a second before it came back on. It started out slow and Shizuo’s heart jumped up into his throat. Izaya lapsed back into existence and fell down hard onto the floor when he did, the sound his body made belying his solid form. Shizuo practically fell off the bed scrambling to get to him.

Izaya was shaking hard, clutching at the ground, and he flinched back when Shizuo tried to touch him, his head snapping over toward him. His eyes were wide and wet and terrified and his skin was so, so cold.

“You were gone,” Shizuo said, the crack in his voice painfully obvious. “I couldn’t see you anymore.”

Shizuo might have kept babbling if Izaya hadn’t taken that moment to dissolve into hysterical laughter, digging his hands into his hair and drawing his knees up to his chest. Shizuo didn’t know what to do, only sat and watched in horrified silence until he trailed off.

“Izaya…” Shizuo didn’t know what to do or what he was feeling. Everything was spinning out of his control all at once and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“You figured it out,” Izaya said, and when he smiled it was tired and resigned. “You asked what I was afraid of.” He shrugged, spreading his arms out. “I guess you have your answer.”

~

Shizuo couldn’t remember the last time he’d smoked so many cigarettes in a row. Truth be told, he was trying to lay off of them, only do it every once in a while but this was testing his willpower like nothing else.

They’d gotten dressed while Izaya explained what he thought was happening in a too-nonchalant tone. Shizuo listened and paced back and forth across the room shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous,” he said for what must have been the fourth time.

Izaya sighed, leaning back on his arms, having seated himself back on the bed. His face was a mask of calm resignation but his hands were clutching tight to the comforter. “Why is this the part you’re having a hard time believing?”

“Because it’s stupid!” Shizuo burst out, crossing his arms over his chest. “How do you know that’s really what it is? Couldn’t it have been a time limit? Like a certain number of weeks you got and now they’re up?”

Izaya stood up in one fluid movement and got right in the way of where he was walking, looking him straight in the eye. “It doesn’t make sense otherwise. Why else would I be stuck with you and not my sisters? Or my parents?”

Shizuo still didn’t want to accept it. It sounded like something out of a kid’s story where falling in love always fixed everything. Except in this case it was tearing it apart, at least from Shizuo’s point of view. “You came back so I could fall in love with you?” Shizuo demanded, the words strange on his tongue. “What kind of pointless bullshit is that?”

Something twitched across Izaya’s face but he just shrugged and walked over to Shizuo’s window, peeking out through the slots in the blinds. They needed to turn on a light; it was getting late enough to cast the room in darkness but Shizuo couldn’t be bothered at the moment. He went back to pacing instead.

“So how come you came back this time?” Shizuo asked. “Let’s say you’re right and that’s what happened. Why are you still here?” It wasn’t angry, more desperate, searching.

“I think it was a warning,” Izaya said, still staring out the window. “Now we know we’re on the clock.”

“What clock?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Izaya hissed back at him, snapping at last. “Is that what you want to hear? I don’t understand why any of this is the way it is. I don’t know why this happened or what it means. All I know is that we’re running out of time and what triggered it must have been you saying what you did.” Shizuo opened his mouth to protest but Izaya continued. “That was the only thing that was different. We’ve had sex before. Arguing is nothing new. That had to be it.”

“So you’re saying this is my fault?” Shizuo demanded. He couldn’t help it. It felt like his heart was dropping into his stomach.

Izaya turned back away, didn’t answer. Shizuo wanted to scream.

He couldn’t get over how unfair it was. He knew he would sound like a kid saying it, but the irony was killing him. As soon as he wanted Izaya around he was being yanked away.

Slowly he stubbed out his current cigarette, walked over to where Izaya was, and stood next to him at the window. Looking out he couldn’t see much. Something occurred to him then. “Do you…do you want to go still?”

Izaya pressed his lips together, stared straight ahead. There was something scared in his eyes again that made Shizuo want to grab onto his hand and keep him there by pure force of will. “You’re wrong,” he said, instead of answering Shizuo’s question.

Shizuo was inclined to agree with him at the moment even if it was annoying, but with everything crashing down around them he was going to need Izaya to be more specific. “What?”

Izaya squeezed his arms in tighter against his chest, wouldn’t meet his eyes. “This isn’t only your fault.”

Shizuo blinked at him, trying to decode the words. The answer he kept arriving at seemed impossible, but Izaya looked up at him at last and Shizuo could see it in his expression. Shizuo huffed a laugh, drug his hands down his face for something to do with them. He wanted so badly to be happy about it, to be relieved that he wasn’t alone in this, to know that Izaya wasn’t going to just laugh and kick it in his face, but he couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t.

“Guess we’re both screwed, huh?”

“That seems to have been the point.”

Shizuo didn’t feel sad that often, or at least not singularly. It was usually mixed up with something else, but this time it came alone and the sorrow was suffocating. The dread that had clamped around him when Izaya’d disappeared had not gone away when he’d come back, and it was cold, all-penetrating. He struggled for breath and reached out for something to do.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, not thinking about it.

Izaya turned his way, raising an eyebrow, and at least the expression was familiar. His eyes were guarded but not shut off completely. “You think that will help?”

“Not really,” Shizuo admitted. “But I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to anymore, especially now that I know this is mutual.”

Izaya held his ground for another few long moments and for the first time Shizuo thought he looked young. Too young, and too tired, and too scared. But he was closing his eyes and tilting his chin up anyway and Shizuo bent to meet him, doing his best to kiss him like he’d never be able to kiss him again. Izaya clung to him, holding on like he was going to fall at any second and Shizuo was the only thing keeping him upright, and Shizuo returned the gesture, gripping onto to Izaya as tightly as he could.

Shizuo knew it would never be enough for him, that he wanted to hold Izaya like this for the rest of his life, not however long they had left. He wanted to see his face look the way it had earlier that day, looking out across the city, full of undisguised wonder and incredulity, a million times. He wanted to wake up next to him every morning, lay in bed together all afternoon because they were too lazy to get up again, talk to him in the middle of the night about whatever, try to figure out how that mind of his worked anyway.

He’d take everything that came with it too: the endless arguments, the frustrating non-answers, the teasing and the laughing and the smug smiles that made him want to punch a wall, and so on. He’d been putting up with Izaya for a month now, and longer before that, and Shizuo knew he was flawed, but so was he. Shizuo was willing to take him as he was and he’d thought that was supposed to be enough.

But inevitability hung heavy in the air and was evident in the wetness Shizuo felt and kissed away from Izaya’s cheeks. This wasn’t made to last and they were going to have to make their peace with that the best they could.

~

Shizuo didn’t want to fall asleep and Izaya didn’t want to talk anymore, so when Celty texted Shizuo that she was spending the night with her friend and to wish her luck because they were watching a horror movie marathon Shizuo pulled Izaya into the bathroom because he thought he’d feel better if he was clean.

“Are you cleaning me so I can be embalmed?” Izaya joked as he stripped his shirt back off. “Because I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Shizuo knocked his shoulder against him and Izaya laughed and it felt good to pretend. The water was warm and it felt good to stand underneath it and let the sound of it drown out his own thoughts. Izaya’s skin was soft and his hair stuck up funny when Shizuo tousled it, so when he started kissing at Shizuo’s neck and running his hands down lower Shizuo didn’t really protest.

It was slow and more deliberate than before even, particularly on Izaya’s part. Izaya was down on his knees at one point before Shizuo could stop him and by the time his mouth was occupied Shizuo felt no desire to make him. Shizuo kept his eyes open for as much of it as he could, trying to burn the way Izaya looked into his memory. Most of the time Izaya was looking right back.

Shizuo had to hold him up after he came, and Izaya let Shizuo help clean him up after they were done. They stayed in the shower until it went cold and Shizuo couldn’t distinguish the taste of the water from the taste of Izaya’s mouth.

~

“Do you think it was all predetermined?” Izaya asked a few hours later.

They’d ended up back on Shizuo’s bed. Izaya had stretched out with his legs in Shizuo’s lap and Shizuo was hard pressed to move him. “What do you mean?” Shizuo was having trouble focusing even though he knew he needed to pay attention. It was difficult when he was exhausted but knew for a fact that he couldn’t sleep.

“This,” Izaya said unhelpfully. “I mean, we met twice before.”

“I didn’t think you believed in stuff like that.”

“I don’t,” Izaya said quickly. “But there was something so deliberate about all this.”

“Guess it was meant to be,” Shizuo said and grabbed Izaya’s ankle before he could kick him.

~

“What’s it like?”

“What?”

“Dying.”

“Isn’t it cheating if I tell you?”

Shizuo shot him a look and Izaya laughed. The further the night went on the more resigned he became and the less Shizuo did.

“Dark. Cold. Like you’re falling and losing track of everything. Like nothing,” Izaya said, pulling at Shizuo’s hand again. He was laying on top of him and it was making it hard for Shizuo to breathe but he didn’t care.

That wasn’t reassuring, but Shizuo didn’t think it was supposed to be.

~

The night lasted an eternity and was gone in a second. Shizuo had wondered at first if they might get more time, if all the waiting around was pointless—he couldn’t stay awake forever after all—but when dawn came, a strip of pink light seeping over the edge of his windowsill, he knew, somehow, that that wasn’t going to be the case. They watched the sun come up together. Izaya was clenching hard enough at his hand for it to hurt and Shizuo didn’t know what to say.

"I've been thinking," Izaya said, quieter than necessary, speaking in his place per usual, "that love isn't all this was about."

Shizuo raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. "I thought you were over that whole denial thing."

Izaya frowned. "It wasn't denial. It was realism. Anyway, you should be paying attention. These might be my last words and you're the only one around to hear them. You need to have more respect for the dead, Shizuo."

His tone was light, detached, but the reminder still hurt, dropped a grave veil down over the conversation that hadn't been there before. Shizuo simply nodded, unsure once more how to respond.

"It was more about moving on in general," Izaya continued as if the interruption hadn't happened. "My family or anyone else might have tried to keep me around, but you wanted me out the second you saw me." Shizuo winced at the memory. It seemed like years ago he'd first seen Izaya up on his ceiling. "This—" Izaya gestured between them with a flick of his wrist. "—was part of it, but not the whole. It was one means to an end, the route chosen, but not the only one available."

Shizuo couldn't really imagine it happening any other way at that point. It felt strangely inevitable to him, looking back. The difference was he hadn't wanted to see it before, he never had. Izaya's words did make sense nonetheless, in an esoteric, intellectual way. Shizuo sort of liked the first explanation better, if only because it proved that Izaya really did feel the same way he did, but he kept that to himself. There was a pause as he thought about it, but Izaya was quick to fill it once more.

“Do you wish it hadn’t happened?” Izaya whispered, still staring off away from him. “Do you wish I’d just not come back at all?”

“Maybe some of it,” Shizuo said after a second of thought, flashing the healing scar along his arm at Izaya. “But I almost think it would have happened anyway, one way or another.”

Izaya sighed heavily. “It’s people like you that give whatever force manufactured this ideas.”

Shizuo chuckled, not looking at the sunrise anymore but at the way the light was playing across Izaya’s face. Izaya caught him but he didn’t move his eyes and it made a corner of Izaya’s mouth twitch up.

“I suppose this is where I tell you not to waste your whole life waiting around for me, to get out there and make the best of it,” Izaya drawled, running his thumb up along the back of Shizuo’s hand.

“You’re not going to?”

Izaya smirked at him, something possessive in his eyes. “No.” He said it like a challenge.

Shizuo kissed him then because he couldn’t help it.

Izaya must have felt it coming the last time and hadn’t said anything because he started squeezing Shizuo’s hand harder before it happened. Shizuo felt his skin go cold and his stomach drop out and he latched on hard to Izaya’s hand.

“That won’t help,” Izaya pointed out, going translucent in the early morning light.

“It’s helping me,” Shizuo admitted. He felt frantic, powerless watching it happen, more so because he had no idea what to say. “Izaya…” He swallowed hard, steeling himself to say it for real since it was his last chance.

“Don’t.” Izaya stopped him. “I know already.”

Shizuo frowned at him and Izaya smiled back. “Fine,” Shizuo said. “But if I’m gonna wait around for you, if there’s an afterlife, you’d sure as hell better wait around for me.”

Izaya laughed, full and honest, and Shizuo would hear the sound in his dreams for years to come. “Deal.”

It happened as quickly as the first time, although Shizuo watched more closely and saw how Izaya sank out of sight. He closed his eyes toward the end of it, leaned back into the fall. Shizuo held onto him until he couldn’t anymore.

And then, like before, he was gone, and Shizuo was alone with the sunrise, watching it blur in front of his eyes, punching hard at the mattress, and trying not to think.


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post this last chapter a day early, because why not ;) I apologize for the length, but I wanted to make it short and sweet, just something to give a little closure.
> 
> I'd also like to take a brief second to say thank you so much to everyone for reading, and leaving kudos and comments. The response to this fairly strange story has been overwhelming, and I appreciate all your support and kind words more than you could ever know. I truly hope you've enjoyed it because it's been a pleasure to write~

Shizuo had dragged himself out of his room and made tea by the time Celty came home. She rushed over as soon as she caught sight of him which probably meant he didn’t look as together as he would have liked to.

“What happened?” she signed frantically at him. An idea seemed to hit her a few seconds later. “Is it your boyfriend?”

Shizuo clenched his teeth and cleared his throat and wished Celty wasn’t so smart. “Yeah. We…broke up.”

Celty’s face crumbled. “Oh, Shizuo…” She pulled a chair up next to him and set her hand on his shoulder. Part of him wanted to curl up against her and sob like a baby, but he resisted. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s probably better this way,” Shizuo heard himself say.

Celty looked him over, trying to judge if he was telling the truth, so he added, “It was a long time coming.”

“You’ll find someone else,” Celty signed, “if you want to I mean.”

Shizuo moved his head up and down. “It was time to move on.”

And it took some time, but eventually he did. He went out with his friends again, listened to them complain about him falling off the face of the earth for a month and sat through their jokes about that time at the coffee shop when everyone’s drink was falling over inexplicably. It almost made him feel better because sometimes he felt like it wasn’t real, that he’d imagined it all.

Worse than that was when Shizuo swore he saw something out of the corner of his eye and couldn’t stop himself from looking for the first few months. It drove him crazy, made it harder for him to get over it. He eventually realized he probably never would, at least not entirely.

Talking with Izaya’s sisters made him feel better somehow. It gave him something to do, paying attention to the news for them. He even went with them to visit the grave again one summer. There were no tears and Shizuo was impressed with all three of them. He visited Kasuka as well soon after it happened. It was good to see him again and it took some of the weight off Shizuo’s chest.

Ultimately, time passed as it always did, the years fell away and Shizuo moved past what had happened, finishing up his diploma, but remaining unsure of what he wanted to do with it. It didn’t end up mattering; Tom asked one day if he wanted to go in with him on a bodyguard job and Shizuo was quick to accept.

Shizuo lived a long life. He dated some people but never really settled down in spite of Celty nudging him toward the possibility in that subtle way of hers. He attended her and Shinra’s wedding and was glad to see them so happy. He watched Mairu and Kururi and Kasuka grow up before his eyes, start their own lives. 

He could feel it when it was his time to go, but it felt more like an embrace than he’d expected. He’d never hurried toward it, but now that it was happening he didn’t feel much like resisting. It was much like Izaya had described, but he sank rather than falling, let it happen. Death wasn’t something he was afraid of anymore.

Shizuo wouldn’t say he was surprised to feel a weight in his hand, what felt like fingers grasping onto his as he passed. There was a pull that hadn’t been there before, and more than anything he felt relieved and really truly at peace.

There was a voice in his ears, sounding exasperated and achingly familiar. “It took you long enough.”

Shizuo squeezed Izaya’s hand hard in return and held on as if he never planned to let go.


End file.
